The Laws of Science
by masterful liar
Summary: Bones goes missing and a mystery skeleton shows up on the lab table... Bearing all the markings of the missing scientist. How will Booth and the rest of the team react?
1. Preface

_Scientific America– February 8, 2010_

_The Laws of Science: How the unlikely partnership of a lawman and scientist is changing the face of modern crime fighting_

_By Desk Reporter Angie Snow_

_(Pictured – FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth and partner, Forensic Anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan with the Jeffersonian)_

"_It's amazing what Bones can do," FBI Agent Seeley Booth remarks, referring to his partner, author (and frequent contributor to this magazine) Dr. Temperance Brennan. "She can just glance at a skeleton and shazaam! She can tell you the race, age, sex… everything. Even their favorite sport."_

_Bones? Upon further inquiry, the partners laugh, "Yeah, that's just a nickname he's come up with. Booth really didn't know anything at all about examining bones when we started working together, and to be honest, I think he was really reluctant to admit that examining bones were even necessary… So he just referred to me as 'Bones'… I think mostly because that's what he thought I contributed to the partnership." _

_Agent Booth instantly interrupts that he now finds Dr. Brennan much more valuable than "just the bones lady." The moniker seems to have stuck, for now._

_This unlikely duo has become well known both within the ranks of the FBI and among local law enforcement over the past five years of their highly successful partnership. With the highest solve rate in the D.C. branch of FBI, Booth confirms that their partnership has recently undergone intense scrutiny so that other partnerships like it may be formed across the county._

"_The partnering of law and science was pretty difficult at first," he admits, "But we've learned so much from each other that our cases have really benefitted."_

_One must wonder if the partnership has thrived from the delicate balance of science and justice or from the palpable devotion the couple clearly has for one another. During the middle of this interview, a group of men stopped by our table at the coffee shop to ask for Dr. Brennan's autograph on the copy of her latest book, "A Clean Break," out in bookstores everywhere today. Agent Booth immediately stood behind Dr. Brennan as she happily complied their request, scrutinizing each fan as though he were an imminent threat. The anthropologist later returned the favor, happily agreeing to watch the agent's son for the weekend when Booth received an unexpected message from his boss calling him away. _

_Why the extra care? "We've had some… incidents in the past in which Bones… Sorry, Brennan, was threatened. You know, guys who wouldn't really want someone this brilliant helping to catch them, that sort of thing." Booth slings an arm around the back of his partner's chair. "You can never be too careful."_

_Dr. Brennan nods, "It's true. We watch out for each other. Perhaps that's another reason we've been so successful. I've witnessed some very successful partnerships at the FBI, but it appears they're only work partners."_

_Only work partners? Dr. Brennan clarifies, "I mean to say, they only care about helping the other when it comes to work-related issues. Or they only discuss the case. We're more like… Life partners. We can read each other very well and genuinely care about what the other's dealing with. That attentiveness certainly bleeds into our working and personal relationship. Helps us stay on the same wavelength."_

_Judging from Agent Booth's reaction to Dr. Brennan's comments on being "life partners," this reporter is certain there's more to it than just that. But for now, the two are coming close to five years of a successful, if unorthodox partnership._

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: YES, I KNOW THIS IS A BIT FLUFFY, BUT THIS ARTICLE IS NECESSARY TO PREFACE THE STORY COMING UP - WHICH WILL BE MOSTLY DRAMA, WITH A BIT OF B/B SHIPPING IN THERE, OF COURSE. (JUST LIKE THE SHOW!) I MAY NOT KNOW ALL THE SCIENTIFIC WORDS NECESSARY, I MAY NOT BE SUPER UP-TO-DATE ON MY LEGALESE, BUT I DO KNOW THAT I LIKE COCKY BELT BUCKLES, ROXIE AND TONY, AND WRITING FOR REVIEWS. :) THANKS FOR READING - HOPE TO SEE YOU IN THE COMMENTS SECTION!**_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Bones, where are you? I thought we were gonna meet at the diner for breakfast. Did you see the article? Have you seen the _New York Times_ review of your new book? You, baby, are on fi-ah! Call me back!" Booth slapped his phone shut before sliding it back into his pocket, grinning from ear to ear with excitement. The article had come out perfectly, he thought, gazing at the full-page photo of him and his partner squeezed right smack dab in the middle of _Scientific America_.

If only Bones had met him at the diner like she was supposed to, they could have caught up on everything – he had been out of town camping with Parker over the long three day weekend, without any cell reception, and had been looking forward to catching up with his partner over a Spanish omelet from the diner.

Booth fidgeted anxiously behind his desk for the next two hours, obsessively checking his phone between every e-mail he sent out and every report he read. No missed calls, the display continued to read. The special agent sighed, checking the clock. 11:00 a.m. It just wasn't like Bones to not return his call immediately, especially considering he had tried to call her the night before but to no avail.

"Booth! Let's go, meeting in the conference room!" He heard one of his fellow agents rally him from down the hall. Booth pursed his lips in frustration, setting his cell to 'vibrate' as he quickly strode towards the conference room. He didn't know which was more unsettling – Brennan not returning his calls or the fact that he was so bothered by it. He hadn't realized how much he relied on her constant input on his life until he had gone four days without it.

* * * * * *

"Bones. Seriously, are you ok? Because I'm starting to get concerned. Call me sweetie, ok?" Angela bit her lip in worry as she slowly settled her phone back into its cradle next to the computer. Hodgins popped his head into her office, hearing that she was off the phone. "Still no luck?" He could tell Angela was really starting to worry. He walked slowly up to her, settling down in the chair next to her, placing a calming hand on her arm, which still rested on the phone. "Ange – why are you so worried? It's noon after a three day weekend. For all we know, Dr. Brennan is finally learning how to behave like a human and slept through her alarm."

Angela flicked her eyes up to Jack doubtfully. "Ok, fine," he acquiesced, dropping his hand into his lap. "You're right. Even after a three day weekend she would be here at 6 a.m." Angela nodded, "Exactly. But what _really_ has me worried is that we were supposed to meet for drinks Friday night and she never showed." Jack's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?" Angela nodding, standing and starting to pace around her office. "I didn't think too much of it at the time – I got to the bar a little after midnight, which was way later than we had planned to meet to begin with, so I figured she had just shown up, coming straight from working all day, seen I wasn't there, and then gone home tired. You know how exhausted she can be after a long day." Angela looked at Jack anxiously. "Oh, God. I should have called her! Texted her! _Something_ to make sure she had gotten home all right! What if something happened to her?"

The artist was now in complete panic mode, prompting Hodgins to take control. He stood and placed both hands on his former fiancé's shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing and looked him in the eyes. "Ange." He spoke slowly and calmly, bringing her back to reality. "Angie." She looked at him, eyes focusing. "Are you really concerned about this? Do you _really_ think something has happened?" Angela nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can't explain it, I just… Something doesn't _feel _right, Jack. I _know_ Brennan. Something's not right."

Hodgins nodded, slowly bringing his thumb to brush against Angela's cheek soothingly. "Ok. We'll find out what's going on. Calm down, it'll be ok." He said reassuringly. Angela nodded with Hodgins, taking slow breaths.

"First thing's first. Have you called Booth?" Hodgins asked the obvious question. Angela nodded, "Of course. I tried him about an hour ago, but he didn't pick up. He texted me something quickly about a meeting that was dragging on forever." Hodgins nodded. "Ok. Let's try him again, check to see if that meeting got out."

Hodgins pulled out his cell and typed out a quick message to Booth. BRENNAN HASN'T COME IN YET TODAY. PLEASE SAY SHE'S WITH YOU, ANGELA'S LOSING IT OVER HERE.

He pressed send, then slid the phone back into his pocket. "Ok, Angela," he said, putting his hand behind the artist's elbow and slowly guiding her onto the platform. "While we wait for Booth's response, which I'm _sure_ will be positive, maybe you can help catch me up to speed on what the heck is going on with this headless skeleton Dr. Brennan left on the table."

* * * * * *

Booth clenched his teeth in frustration as his phone vibrated in his pocket again, earning him a stern stare from the agent sitting next to him. Booth rolled his eyes and pulled out the phone anyway. It could be from Bones. And hey, it wasn't like he hadn't heard this same material covered 100 times before. HODGINS the display read. Booth sighed in frustration, going to slip the phone back in his pocket but thought better of it and quickly flipped open the phone to read the bug guy's message.

BRENNAN HASN'T COME IN YET TODAY. PLEASE SAY SHE'S WITH YOU, ANGELA'S LOSING IT OVER HERE.

For a moment, Booth froze in panic. He quickly looked at the time 12:15. He snapped the phone shut and stood, quickly leaving the room with a nod of apology to the man running the meeting, holding up his phone to his ear and mouthing "emergency" to excuse his sudden exit.

"You've reached the cell phone of Temperance Brennan. Please leave a message after the tone… BEEP!" "Bones! You pick up this phone right now! I know you hate it, but I'm really starting to worry, so just call me. NOW, Temperance!" Booth shouted as quietly as possible into his phone as he quickly ran into his office.

No e-mails. No notes. Nothing to say Bones had been here in his absence. Booth looked at the time again. 12:18. Booth grabbed his keys and dialed Jack as he got in his car and headed for the Jeffersonian.

"Booth?" Jack picked up after the first ring. "Hodgins! Is Bones with you?" After a long pause, Hodgins responded, "No… We were really hoping she was with you." "Is that Booth?" The agent could her Angela's panicked voice in the background. "Gimme the phone…" As Booth pulled into the parking lot in the Jeffersonian, he heard Angela wrestle the phone away from Hodgins. "Booth, where are you?"

"I'm parking, Angela. I'll be inside in just a minute." Booth's voices trailed off as he pulled into Brennan's reserved parking spot. This was not looking good. "Booth, I'm worried. Like, really worried." Booth grimaced. He was too, but he wasn't about to admit it – as of right now, all he was dealing with was a partner who was playing hooky. For all he knew, she was sleeping in… Or, taking a personal day… Or was sick… Or maybe had a date go _really_ well… Booth winced at the last on his mental list of excuses.

"Angela, slow down. I know you're worried, but why are you hysterical? She could be late for a very explainable reason." Booth said, squeezing his eyes shut and praying the thought as it left his lips. "Booth, we were supposed to meet for drinks Friday night. She never showed."

Booth froze in the middle of the parking lot, comprehending what Angela had said. He felt the panic start to rise within him, but forced himself to be rational. 'Think of what Bones would do,' he told himself. 'Don't get emotional, just be rational. No sense in panicking… Yet.' "Friday night?" He asked sharply, demanding Angela for more. "Yeah… I thought she just went home to sleep," the artist said, sniffling. "But now I'm afraid something happened to her."

Taking a deep breath, Booth took off in a run to the lab. It's time for action, he told himself. This may be serious. "Angela." He said sharply, demanding her attention once more. He needed answers before she lost herself in a puddle of tears. "Angela! Have you spoken with her at all since you left work Friday?" He could her shake her head violently before she answered. "No."

Booth hung up sharply, having reached the lab and swiping in, skipping half the steps up the platform. Angela and Hodgins were sitting on stools in the corner as Mr. Nigel Murray and Cam hovered over the skeleton spread over the table, trying desperately to find something useful to contribute.

"Squints! Attention!" Booth whistled loudly, getting everyone on the platform's attention as well as the attention of various scientists and other Jeffersonian employees passing by. "I'm looking for the last person who spoke with Dr. Brennan on Friday. Who was that?"

Exchanging glances, Mr. Nigel Murray stepped forward tentatively. "I was here with her until 9 p.m. on Friday," he offered. Booth nodded, "Ok. Is that when she left?" The intern shook his head, "No, that's when _I_, in fact, left. I had… Well, plans for that evening and Dr. Brennan said I was free to…" "That's great, squint." Booth said, waving him off. He got the point of the story.

"Did anyone here see Dr. Brennan _after_ 9 p.m. Friday night?" Booth again raised his voice, commanding the attention of everyone in the lab. "Actually, if you're going to say p.m., it's unnecessary to also say night…" Mr. Nigel Murray quietly trailed off as Booth turned to shoot him a death stare.

Upon receiving no response from the surrounding audience, Booth focused on the people on the platform. "Ok, squints. What was the last thing you did with Dr. Brennan?" He held up his hand, cutting of Mr. Nigel Murray before he could say anymore. "Anyone else?" Cam stepped forward, "I wasn't even here Friday, Seeley. Sorry." He nodded, not taking his eyes of Hodgins and Angela who were racking their brains. "Go talk to security. See what time she swiped out." Cam nodded, rushing off the platform. "Bring Einstein with you," Booth called after her, grabbing Mr. Nigel Murray by the jacket and shoving him towards Cam.

"Hodgins. When did you leave Friday?" He called the bug man over from comforting Angela to the examination table. "Uh… Around 7. I met some buddies for a beer over at that new bar down the street before heading home." Booth nodded. "And this body? You and the Nigel whatever were working on it with Bones before you left?"

Hodgins frowned, shaking his head. "Nope. We were working on a fragmented femur from a grown African American male when we left. I assumed Dr. Brennan laid out this skeleton after I left." Booth stared at the skeleton in front of them. "And that femur doesn't go with this body?"

Hodgins shook his head again. "Nope. I'm not a bones guy, remember, I'm all about slime and bugs… But I can definitely tell you this pile of bones is a chick, probably in her thirties." He shrugged. "Dunno why she's skull-less, though." He snapped his fingers, looking up at Booth. "Hey, maybe Dr. Brennan was working on this skeleton this weekend and discovered something irregular about the skull and went to do more tests on it or show it to someone or… Something… Hey, man, are you alright?"

Booth's face had halted Hodgin's theory in its tracks as the agent slowly leaned forward to squint at something shimmering on the skeleton's left hand.

"Booth?" Angela asked cautiously, seeing the fear grow on Booth's face.

The agent backed away from the skeleton quickly, pressing himself to the side of the platform as far away from it as possible. "That's Bones' ring. The ring her mom left her. She wears it everyday, on that finger," he said slowly, mostly talking to himself.

He looked up at Hodgins, his tone turning dead quiet. "Hodgins. I need someone to identify that body RIGHT. NOW." He squeezed his eyes shut. "_Please_ tell me who that is. NOW."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

An uneasy silence settled over the lab as Booth's words echoed across the platform, the implication setting in. Angela took a sharp breath in while Hodgins instinctively shrank away from the skeleton.

Booth remained frozen, staring at the ring on the skeleton's ring finger. Absolutely, definitely, Bones' mom's ring. No way around it. Which meant…. He took a deep breath, fighting harder than ever before not to panic. "Ok," he reasoned quietly, in a deadly tone that told anyone listening that if they were within shooting range, they were in danger. "Ok. All this tells us is that Bones is definitely in trouble. Someone had to get close enough to steal her ring."

He nodded to himself, "I'm going to her house," he said quickly, starting to jog off the platform toward the parking garage. "Booth!" He stopped in his tracks when he heard Cam's voice echo back towards him. He spun around quickly, not willing to return any closer to the platform. "Did you find anything?" He asked hopefully.

Cam nodded, approaching him with a fretful Mr. Nigel Murray in tow. "She swiped out at 9:30 p.m. Friday, then swiped back in this morning at 3 a.m. and out again a little before 4." Booth's eyebrows rose in confusion. "So she was here at 3 a.m. this morning?" Mr. Nigel Murray stepped forward and Cam put her hand on his arm to stop him from correcting Booth.

The action pulled Booth out of his thoughts. "You!" He grabbed the squint by the collar and pulled him to the platform, shoving him up the stairs gently. "You need to tell me everything you can about this body, right now." He said coolly, in a detached voice that Cam had never heard him use before.

Mr. Nigel Murray looked confused, "But… But what will this help us with finding Dr. Brennan?" He stuttered. "Just. Do. It." Booth said, staring the scientist down. Mr. Nigel Murray gulped, nodding, then quickly ran an eye over the bones. "Well, aside from the unlikely adornment of this ring," he said, slowly slipping the ring of the skeleton's finger and holding it to the light," it looks like we have a female specimen, mid-thirties." He moved to slide the ring back on the skeleton's finger, but Booth sharply cut him off. "No! Bag that and treat it as evidence – in fact, the whole skeleton is evidence. I want it dusted for prints and examined for particulates."

Angela spoke up in the corner hesitantly, "But, Booth… I'm sorry, I can't work with the body if we think it's… Bren…" She broke off again, struggling not to sob. Mr. Nigel Murray looked up sharply at Booth, "What did she say? Who do you think this is!?" Booth brushed him off, "Tell me more."

The squint nodded and resumed his examination as Cam exchanged alarmed looks with Angela and Hodgins. "All right, well, it appears we have a female here, mid-thirties, healthy…. In great physical condition, actually, but she likely had a lot of joint pain, especially in the knees and feet." Booth liked up quickly at Angela, "Bones never complained about…" He trailed off when he saw Angela shake her head slowly as Mr. Nigel Murray continued, "We have a wrist here that looks like it was fractured within the past few years," Booth winced, remembering Bones' fateful trip to New Orleans. "What appears to be a gunshot wound to the upper arm," Booth tensed. "Recent?" Mr. Nigel Murray shook his head, "No, a few years old. It appears to have healed, suggesting the victim received immediate care."

Angela broke into a sob at the word 'victim.' Mr. Nigel Murray looked up in confusion, "I'm… Sorry… Did I say something wrong?" Booth shook his head, "I just need to find injuries that indicate that woman is _not_…." He trailed off, wincing, as Cam's eyes grew wider than usual. "You think this might be Dr. Brennan?" She and Mr. Nigel Murray exchanged looks of horror.

Booth pulled himself together quickly and zoned in on the panicking squint. "Hey! I need _you_ to tell me _everything you can_ about this skeleton. I'm going to Bones' house." "But... Evidence suggests that Dr. Brennan is in fact on this tab…" "Shut it!" Booth cut off the intern with a quick wave of his hand. "This is _not _her, it's a decoy. If it were her, I would… I would know. I would know." He muttered to himself under his breath. "We're wasting precious time staring at a skeleton while Bones is missing!" Past the panic mode, Booth went straight to anger, punching a nearby table hard enough to dent it… And likely fractured one of his fingers. He winced. Now he was angry _and_ injured. "She's been missing for almost FOUR WHOLE DAYS, people! Start… I don't know… Doing whatever it is you do! Gather evidence or something!"

And with that, he grabbed his jacket and started rushing off the platform, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Agent Booth!" He ignored the squint's cry, aiming for the door. "Seeley!" He stopped and turned quickly towards Cam. "What!?" Mr. Nigel Murray stepped forward in fear, "This… This is as much as I can tell you without Dr. Brennan about the skeleton.. I'm afraid that without any bone samples or her x-rays, especially without a skull, I can't tell much more." Booth looked at him coolly, slowly advancing towards the intern until he was less than an inch away, forcing the intern to look up.

"Would Dr. Brennan be able to tell more from just the skeleton?" He said low and menacingly. Mr. Nigel Murray nodded and gulped, "But I'm afraid I'm not…" Booth turned on his heel and whipped out his cell phone as he jogged to the car. "Sweets! Get Zac out of the Looney Bin right now and into the lab. I don't care what you say, that's an order from your superior. NOW, Sweets! And DON'T tell him who we think the skeleton is, either!" The agent hung up on the incredibly confused psychologist who had no idea what was going on before he could ask any questions.

As Booth slid behind the wheel of his car and flicked on the siren and lights, he made one last desperate phone call. "Bones, this is Booth. Call me back, dammit!"


	4. Chapter 3

_**Quick Author's Note: Thank you all SO MUCH for reviewing! I appreciate all reviews: constructive, critical, or just to say hi. Thank you again and KEEP at it so I can stay motivated! I threw up the last chapter and in my haste to publish it, I didn't even proofread it – sorry! Hopefully this chapter is cleaner, clearer, and better quality. Also, I dislike when fanfiction gets all introspective and lovey-dovey… But I realized, Booth talks like that on the show ALL THE time. I mean, his "making love" speech? TOTALLY not something that you would read on a script and think, 'huh, that's realistic.' But when Booth says it, it totally works! So keep that in mind… Enjoy! **___

Chapter 3

"So…. Someone catch me up?" Cams voice was the first to break the heavy silence that had fallen over the platform since Booth's sudden exit.

After a moment of silence, Angela spoke up. "We… We think…" She paused, taking a deep breath as Hodgins put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in encouragement. "Brennan is missing," Angela stated, standing and moving very slowly towards the skeleton, taking Hodgins with her. "The last time anyone spoke to her was Friday evening, apparently."

Cam nodded slowly, "And the skeleton?" Angela, having gained some courage from Hodgins' presence, leaned forward to peer closer at the ring. "Jack and Vincent found this skeleton laying here on the table when they came in this morning."

Cam nodded again, "Right. And Booth saw that the skeleton is wearing Brennan's ring, Mr. Nigel Murray confirmed that very basic indicators on the skeleton suggest it could be Brennan, and Booth assumed the worst."

Angela, Hodgins, and Mr. Nigel Murray nodded together, each lost in their own thoughts.

After allowing a brief moment of silence, Cam straightened and clapped her hands together once. "OK, people! I hate to be the ice bitch here, but I'm afraid I'm really good at that and I'm going to have to be the one who remains as unemotional as possible if we are to get anything done and help Dr. Brennan. We must assume that this is in fact _not_ Dr. Brennan and therefore she is still missing and this is evidence to finding her captor. Cooler heads must prevail. Mr. Nigel Murray!" She addressed the intern, who had been intently staring at the skeleton in front of him as thought it would reveal some secret to him.

He jumped at acknowledgement. "Yes! Yes ma'am." Cam leaned forward towards the young man, "Are you ok to continue working this case?" He nodded. "Good," Cam said. "Then I need you to examine this body with a fine tooth comb – I want to know every bone that's ever been broken, fractured, or even slightly worn down. Any diseases, deformations, or medical anomalies. Literally _everything_ you can find. Once Dr. Addy gets here, you are to treat him as you would Dr. Brennan, is that clear?" The intern nodded, pulling on rubber gloves and very gingerly angling a magnifying glass over the bones of the wrist that had been broken.

"Hodgins!" Cam now addressed the bug guy, pulling his focus away from his former fiancé.

"Got it," he nodded resolutely before Cam could continue. "I'm just gonna… Do my job. See if I can find evidence of a murder weapon, residue of any type…" He trailed off, taking in Angela's shudder when he said 'murder weapon.' Hodgins put his arm reassuringly back around her shoulders, looking up at Cam with pleading eyes.

"Angela?" Cam asked slowly and gently, walking up towards the woman. "If you want Hodgins to take you home…"

"No." Angela said clearly, standing and wiping her eyes. "I am not going to go home while my best friend is missing. I am going to do everything I can to help find her." She shrugged Hodgins' arm away resolutely, squaring her shoulders. "And right now, that… skeleton… Which is _totally_ not Brennan, by the way, is the only evidence we have. So I'm going to put together the best image I can of that body – height, gait length – without an actual face."

Cam nodded, "Thank you." Watching Angela walk to her office to retrieve her notepad, she called after the artist, "Just… Make sure to compare your findings to any pictures you have of Dr. Brennan." Angela froze for a moment, nodded slowly without turning, and continued walking towards her office.

"Uh… Dr. Soroyan?" Cam looked over at Hodgins. "I know you did a great job of calming us all down _here_, but I think the person who really needs to calm down is already on his way over to Dr. Brennan's house."

Cam nodded, her lips tightening into a thin line. "Unless we find some evidence that she's alive out there somewhere, and safe… I'm very concerned Agent Booth will wind up in jail for manslaughter by the end of this case."

Hodgins exchanged a knowing look with Cam, taking in the skeleton on the table one last time. "Oh, yeah… Whoever did this is already dead."

* * * * * *

Booth pulled into Brennan's driveway, narrowly missing the side of her car in his haste to park and jump out, gun drawn as he ran toward the front door.

"Bones! Open the door!" After a few seconds and no response, Booth didn't even bother knocking, nor did he even take the time to pull out his copy of Brennan's key to open the front door. "Bones! Answer me, dammit!" Booth kicked in Brennan's front door and nearly fell over his own feet as he stumbled into the house – he had put way too much force into kicking the door, which had just swung open with no resistance.

The agent registered that the door had been unlocked, but didn't stop to examine it as he collected himself and walked quickly from room to room, gun drawn. "Bones!" He bellowed again, willing himself to hear a response.

Booth ran from room to room, scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary. Living room, clear. Kitchen, clear. Bathroom, clear. Office, clear. As Booth's mental checklist grew longer, the agent started to panic. If Bones' car was here and she wasn't, _and_ her front door was unlocked, there was no avoiding it any longer. Something was definitely wrong. Bones was missing.

Shrugging off the growing desire to start shooting things in anger, Booth flung open the door to the bedroom and quickly stepped in, gun drawn, scanning the room…. And froze.

"Oh, God, Bones…" Booth whispered as he dropped his arms, staring fixated on the massive dried pool of blood that covered his partner's bed.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Booth remained frozen, staring at the bloody blankets before him. "_So much blood," _he murmured under his breath, slowly sliding down the wall until he was sitting with his knees propped up tightly in front of him.

Unable to bear the sight anymore, Booth squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyelids. Four days. Bones had been missing for _four days_ and now there was a pool of blood covering her bed and a skeleton on the examining table. He should have called her Friday night, seen how she was doing. Saturday was Russ' birthday; he should have called her to see if there was a party. Parker had gotten sick from some of the fish they had eaten during their camping trip Sunday, he could have brought him home and stopped by Bones' house for a quick hello instead of waiting out the stomach bug. He could have woken up when he had planned to on Monday and driven back to meet Bones for lunch instead of sleeping in and getting back late Monday evening.

The clock down the hall chirped, reminding Booth of the time. Three in the afternoon. On Tuesday. He did some quick calculations in his head. A full 90 hours since anyone had heard from his partner. Booth squeezed his eyes shut again, forcing himself to remain calm for just a moment more as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed one of his fellow agents.

"Hey, Booth!" Greeted his friend, jumping straight into conversation before Booth could say anything. "Man, you must be _psyched_ about that article, huh? You basically got your claim on that bones doctor of yours in ink. Did you plan that? Even included the whole bit about her nickname and everything, published for the entire country to see-"

"Yeah, that's great," Booth cut him off mid-sentence, "John, I need you to assemble a team NOW. She's missing. Since Friday." John remained silent on the other end. "John, dammit, are you listening to me? FRIDAY, I said. We need to find her NOW. I need to know what happened to her."

After a moment John responded, "OK, Seeley, I'm on it. Where are you? What do you know so far?"

Booth caught him up on the timeline as he had pieced together – the last time she had been seen was 9 p.m. Friday – and filled him in on the skeleton and pool of blood. "I'm about to call the squint squad out here to check on the blood," Booth stumbled over the last word. "I need a team of agents out here looking for clues as to our attacker," he wrapped up with great difficulty. "It looks like he came through the front door. It was unlocked when I got here." He paused for a breath, "And I need someone on the case at the lab, too, tracking her moves. Security cameras at the lab, traffic cameras near her house, credit card activity, the works."

John cleared his throat. "Got it, Booth. I'm on it." Booth nodded, still fixated on the pool of blood in front of him. "But Booth… I gotta ask. Any chance those bones are your girl?" Booth squeezed the phone tighter, pushing the possibility from his head.

"No, we have _not _considered the possibility because they just are NOT," he insisted, leaving no room for argument. "We've got the best anthropologist outside of Dr. Brennan on his way over to examine the… evidence. Bones is out there somewhere and we're all obsessing over the damned skeleton which is nothing more than a distraction."

"Ok," conceded John. "We'll go with what we find at the scene… How you holdin' up, Booth?"

At that, Booth slammed his phone shut and moved closer to the bed, leaning forward on his knees and closing his eyes in reverie, wishing he had her hand to hold at least. He remained in fervent prayer until he heard his fellow agents enter 20 minutes later.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_**A/N: Um… Thank you. I can't believe so many people reviewed. Seriously. Thank you. Two quick things: 1) I don't know if Zac's name is officially spelled Zac or Zack or Zach, but I don't care. I like Zac. If that's wrong, then take the misspelling as proof that I don't own the show. 2) So, I tend to write loooong fanfics. I've already mapped this whole thing out and I think it's going to last a while. Just a heads-up… Enjoy! (And review!) **_

"Ok, can someone please explain to me what's going on?" Sweets demanded as he walked into the lab, holding Zac Addy by the elbow and escorting him up the platform.

Jack looked up to see his best friend enter the platform area, paused his work to give him a quick hug, then straightened and pointed at the skeleton uttering only one stern word. "Identify." After a curious glance between Hodgins and Cam, neither of whom met his gaze, Zac nodded and adjusted his gloves. "Ok. I assume by your silence that I'm not going to get any further explanation or instruction. Considering how my past actions have affected your working environment, I can accept this. May I ask why the skeleton is incomplete?"

Hodgins glanced back up at Zac. "Well, we don't know where the skull is." Zac nodded, catching Mr. Nigel Murray's eye for the first time. "Who are you?" The intern stepped forward, "I'm Vincent Nigel Murray, Dr. Brennan's grad student. I've been instructed to assist you in Dr. Brennan's absence."

Zac furrowed his brown in confusion. "Her absence?" He looked back at Hodgins, "Where is Dr. Brennan?" When Hodgins didn't respond, Mr. Nigel Murray stepped forth. "She's… Well, she's not here. Well, she actually _might_ be here… But… She…"

Hodgins stepped forward, cutting off the bumbling intern. "Zac, we don't know where Dr. Brennan is right now. Booth is looking for her. What's important is that you tell us _absolutely everything _about that skeleton as quickly as possible."

Zac nodded, directing his full attention on the bones in front of him. After a moment's pause, he spoke to the intern again, "Dr. Murray? Did you lay these bones out?"

"Actually, it's, uh… Well, I'm Mr. Nigel Murray, Dr. Addy," the intern hesitantly responded. "I haven't quite gotten that doctorate yet. But you may call me Vincent." Zac leveled his gaze once more at the Brit and nodded, "Well, that's to be expected from someone of your age with average intelligence." Vincent winced, not yet used to Zac's blunt personality. "Uh, no, actually. I did not in fact lay out the bones."

"Well, that's good," Zac nodded, returning to the skeleton. "Because the person who arranged these bones either didn't know what he was doing, or purposely arranged them incorrectly."

Cam, who had been filling Sweets in quietly in a corner of the room, looked up at Zac's remark and approached the table. "What do you mean, Dr. Addy?"

"Well, you can see here," Zac pointed one gloved hand at the right side of the skeleton's ribcage, "and here," he pointed at the left fibula, "the bones are misplaced. Three of the ribs in the right of the victim's ribcage are in the wrong order, and the left and right fibulas are switched. In fact…" Zac leaned closer, examining the tiny bones in the left wrist, "Many of the smaller bones in the hands and feet are completely incorrect."

"Which means whoever arranged this body really didn't know what they were doing," Cam supplied.

Zac nodded. "I'm reluctant to agree instantly with such an assumption, but yes, the evidence is so grossly incorrect that it suggests the person who laid these bones out did not purposely rearrange them, but instead did not know what they were doing."

Cam nodded to herself, "Well, good. At least we know something about the guy. Not a scientist. Booth will be happy to learn we've got something."

Zac's eyes went wide and just as he was about to ask just exactly _where_ Dr. Brennan was, he was interrupted.

"What will Booth be happy to learn?" The FBI agent strode up the platform quickly, staring Zac down. Remembering Booth's impatient temper, especially when dealing with squints, and _especially_ when Dr. Brennan wasn't around, Zac immediately spoke up, "I've been able to determine that the individual who arranged these bones did not know what he or she was doing. Or they were in a serious rush… But even then, a true scientist would likely be a stickler for bone positioning."

Bone raised his eyebrows. "Ok, great. What else?" He waited, expectantly. Zac spoke again, "The victim-"

"DON'T call… _that_… the victim," Booth cut Zac off angrily, not giving any other explanation that a stern look.

Zac nodded, curiosity mounting. "Very well. There are no indicators that the… _individual_… ever carried a child or has given birth, but she does display very minor scoliosis that she should have had treated as a teen but apparently never received treatment for. It's likely she would not have been bothered by it for more than cosmetic purposes."

The anthropologist walked over to Hodgins' table to gather the supplies he needed, and continued speaking and he walked back towards the skeleton. "Additionally, the bones show evidence of malnutrition during that same period in her teens. I'll have to get bones shavings to examine under the microscope to be sure."

By this point Angela had appeared on the platform behind Booht, having heard the agent's voice from her office. She crossed her arms protectively across her chest and leaned back on the railing, listening to Zac's examination intently.

"The bones show that she endured some fractures in her late teens that were likely the result of physical violence," Zac continued. "The bones also display evidence of more intense beating recently, specifically damaging her rib cage and left ankle. These injuries were obtained as recently as two or three years ago. It's very likely she would have still felt the pain from these injuries during bad weather or if forced to remain on her feet for longs periods of time."

Booth clapped his hands together, a grin spreading across his face for the first time since the whole ordeal had started. "Excellent! THANK YOU, Zac! And _THAT _is why we called you."

Zac looked at the FBI Agent expectantly, "_Why_ is why you called me? I still haven't identified this body."

Booth shook his head, "No, but you've told us who it _isn't_, and that's all I care about right now." He pointed at Zac, "Well done. Now, see if you can get a cause of death on our vic here, and maybe that'll give us a clue of what's going on. Hodgins, you're your field kit and head on over to Bones' house to collect… Whatever it is you squints collect to catch the bad guys. Angela!" He turned and approached the artist, who was staring at Booth looking very bewildered.

"What?" Booth asked, confused by Angela's expression.

"Booth…" Angela started, very quietly. "What part of Zac's description did _not_ precisely identify Brennan?" Booth shrugged, "Like, half of it. All the stuff about being beat as a teen and then the last few years. C'mon, I would know if anyone so much as _touched_ Bones at any point during our partnership, much less hurt her. I would _definitely_ know if she experienced any pain on a regular basis."

Angela pressed her lips together, taking in Booth's faltering gaze. "I mean… Right? Angela?" He asked, his happy expression fading fast. She grabbed his hand, "Come with me."

"I'll just be right here!" Zac called out to the disappearing pair, then turned to Hodgins. "May I _please_ be informed as to what is going on here? Did I hear correctly that Agent Booth believes this to be Dr. Brennan's body?"

Cam and Hodgins exchanged a look, during which Nigel Murray caught Zac's eye and nodded slightly. "She's been missing since Friday night," Cam added quietly.

Zac nodded, turning his attention back to the skeleton. "Ah… Now I understand. But Agent Booth believes the victim did not match Dr. Brennan's description?"

Hodgins and Cam nodded. "But that skeleton remains evidence in this case – Dr. Brennan is still missing, so we need an ID as soon as possible," Cam directed.

"Ange, what is going on?" Booth asked as Angela dragged him into Brennan's office. "Alright, everybody out!" Angela shouted at the agents still picking apart the office for clues.

"Booth, EVERYTHING Zac just said applies exactly to Brennan," Angela spoke as soon as the last agent left the office and closed the door behind him. "He didn't negate the possibility that that was Brennan up there, he just reinforced it!" Angela seemed on the point of hysterics.

"What are you _talking about_, Anglea?" Booth asked incredulously, resisting the urge to grab the artist by her shoulder and shake the information out of her. "That skeleton shows evidence of beatings. Multiple beatings."

Angela nodded, "I know." The color slowly drained out of Booth's face. "When. Who. Why, when? Why wouldn't she tell me?" His string of questions quickly increased from slow and quiet to panicked exclamations.

"I take it she hasn't revealed a whole lot about her time in the foster system to you," Angela said, putting a hand on Booth's shoulder to stop him, giving her the opportunity to speak.

"We've actually discussed it a lot," Booth said, rubbing his eyes with his hands vigorously. "More than I ever thought we would, to be honest. But she always brings it up – I don't like to force that topic. Although I've wanted to ask her, God, _so many_ times if she was ever… attacked… like that, I haven't. I wanted her to tell me."

He peered up at Angela, dropping his hands to his hips. "But I guess she's told you, huh?"

Angela shook her head no. "I don't know any details, I just know it was really bad. Nothing sexual, I don't think, just more like getting hit around if she did something wrong. She wound up in the hospital a few times. And I hope you don't think she's intentionally keeping you out or anything – the only reason I even know those vague details is because I overheard a conversation she had with her brother once a couple years ago. I think that's part of the reason she's been so reluctant to forgive her father – he just left her to be treated like that."

Booth's hands dropped to his side, curling in anger and relaxing over and over. "And the recent evidence?"

Eyes shifting towards the floor, Angela spoke quickly. "Two summers ago, when she was on that long dig outside of the country? She was captured by the local crime bosses and beaten pretty severely. She was let go a few days later, left to die in the middle of nowhere, when her captors realized they had gotten the wrong person – a big case of mistaken identity."

Booth squeezed his eyes shut, putting his hands behind his head, close enough to cover his ears and pretend none of this was happening. "Why wouldn't she tell me?" He whispered, more to himself than the artist.

"I know that _that_ she did intentionally keep from you," Angela offered. "She was almost fully recovered by the time she got back to the States and you had just gone through that whole thing where you were dead for two weeks for taking a bullet for her… She didn't want you to think you needed to protect her any more than you already did." Angela took a deep breath, "She didn't want you to get shot at her expense again. She knew you would feel so guilty about not being able to protect her, even though you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyway since it was out of the country, you know…" 

Angela trailed off as Booth quickly walked to the nearest wall and punched it with more force than she thought he had. "Well, dammit!" Booth muttered, jerking his arm back and examining his now-bleeding knuckles and the sizable hole he had created in the wall.

"Agent Booth?" A deep male voice interrupted Booths' quiet string of curses as an FBI Agent entered the room holding a padded envelope. Booth nodded in greeting. "This package was found on Dr. Brennan's desk at her home," the man said, handing Booth the envelope which the agent now saw read "Agent Booth" in bold letters on the front.

"Anyone open it? Scan it? Take fingerprints?" Booth asked, reluctantly grabbing a side of the package, handling it gingerly until he had confirmation.

"You're good – it's been checked," assured his fellow agent. "We did not open it in deference to your orders."

Booth nodded, "Thanks." The man remained, awaiting Booth's instructions. Booth slid into Brennan's chair, laying the package out on the desk and carefully slid a letter opener through it, pulling out a 4"x5" piece of photo paper that the agent gripped tightly and froze upon reading it.

Angela, seeing Booth's expression, ran behind him to read the document.

And gasped. There, clutched in Booth's hand, was what appeared to be a funeral invitation that only included Brennan's name, the dates 9-15-1977 to 2-06-2010 and the name and location of a nearby cemetery. Booth slowly ran his fingers over the picture of Brennan that took up over half of the invitation… A picture that showed his partner lying in her bed, covered in blood.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Oh…. Brennan," Angela sighed quietly in fear, still gazing at the picture. Booth remained quiet, fixated on the image of his partner covered in blood.

"Hey, Booth, you might want to hear this," Cam stuck her head into the office and called after the agent, interrupting the moment. "What's that?" She asked, approaching the pair to get a better view of the object in Booth's hand.

Booth wordlessly shot up and tucked the invitation into his jacket packet, shooting Angela a 'keep quiet about this' look. "Nothing. What do you have?"

Cam shot a curious look between Booth and Anglea, then shrugged and turned to lead the pair back to the platform. As they approached, Zac immediately got down to business. "This skeleton displays very, very minor evidence of a genetic skeletal disease. Likely the victi – _individual_ – didn't even realize they had it, and it didn't impact her daily life." Booth remained silent, unwilling to look up from the skeleton.

Sensing the agent's withdrawal, Cam nodded and spoke for him, "And what does that mean for us, Dr. Addy?"

"It means, Dr. Soroyan, that this is a _genetic_ disease. And therefore she would have inherited it from her parents," Zac said. "If you are assuming that this is the body of Dr. Brennan, then I need you to exhume her mother's body. If I can compare her mother's bones next to these bones, side-by-side, I'll be able to tell you within a reasonable doubt if they are mother and daughter."

Booth's eyes flicked up to the scientist and he studied Zac's determined face before giving a brief nod and pulling out his cell phone and speaking quietly into it. "Caroline, I need an exhumation order for Christine Brennan, located in St. Charles' cemetery."

At the mention of the name of the cemetery, a flicker of recognition passed over Angela's face as she realized that was the name of the cemetery listed on the letter Booth had received.

"I can't go into details right now, Caroline. Please contact Agent John McKnowles with the FBI for more. We need this immediately," he concluded, remaining quiet and emotionless as he continued staring at the skeleton.

Sweets exchanged looks with Cam and started to walk forward to put a reassuring hand on Booth's shoulder. Sensing the movement, Booth held up a hand to stop him. "Stop right there, Sweets." The psychologist halted half way across the platform. "One more step and I swear I'll punch you."

Sweets nodded, anticipating this behavior. "Agent Booth, it may seem easier to try to emotionally detach yourself from this case, but you need to consider that that just isn't possible."

Booth straightened, turning to gaze at the psychologist coolly. "How about _you _consider the fact that if I hear _any_ psychobabble, and I mean ANY, I will pull out my gun and shoot you in the face," he said menacingly, slowly approaching an increasingly terrified Sweets.

The psychologist gulped in fear and nodded. "Ok, Agent Booth." He remained in place, trying a different tactic. "So, why did you return to the lab instead of remaining at the crime scene?"

Booth quickly glanced at the ground, "They said I was causing too much of a commotion and I was asked to leave so I would not further impede their examination of Bones' house," he admitted quietly.

Snapping out of his reflection, the FBI agent looked at Cam. "Anything on those surveillance tapes?"

She nodded, pulling out her cell phone, "I'll ask them to send what they've found to the computer on the platform – maybe we'll be able to determine who the creep is that's using Dr. Brennan's key card."

Booth ran a rand through his hair, attempting to breath at a steady rate. "Ok."

As the group crowded around the computer monitor in anticipation of viewing the uploading footage, Hodgins entered, looking nearly as anxious as Booth.

"What happened?" The agent demanded as the scientist returned his field bag and notebook to their rightful places at his desk.

"There wasn't anything worth collecting," Hodgins answered.

Booth looked angry and very doubtful. "Could you please explain how that's possible? No one can walk around a home without leaving _some_ trace of their presence, right? "

Hodgins shrugged, "Despite the _massive_ amount of blood pool on the bed-"

"What?!" Angela cried.

"There is no body," Hodgins continued, ignoring the artist's exclamation. "Therefore, no bugs. No bugs, No Hodgins. The intruder must have worn footies over his shoes or something to keep particulates from falling off. I was able to identify traces of the material used to likely bind Dr. Brennan stuck in the dried blood, but it is unfortunately nothing more than common rope available nationwide at any home improvement store. Nothing for me to work with."

"So, we got literally _nothing_ from the scene," Booth stated, feeling more helpless with every passing moment.

Hodgins nodded as he approached the group at the computer. "They're bringing in the sheets so you can map the blood pattern and see if you can identify where she was wounded." He went to put a reassuring hand on Angela's arm, but the artist quickly excused herself and moved quickly towards the bathroom, struggling to hold her sobs until she was out of earshot.

"The video's uploaded," Cam announced, drawing everyone's attention back to the screen.

The group watched eagerly as a figure dressed in black wearing a black ski mask entered the lab around 3:15 a.m. carrying a large duffle bag. The figure swiped into the platform, seeming to approach the table with awe before carefully laying down the duffel bag and beginning to pull out bones that had been wrapped in a blanket, as well as what appeared to be a crinkled sheet of paper.

After spreading out the paper flat on the table, it was evident the paper contained an image of a human skeleton, as the intruder continued to reference it as he lay out the skeleton, piece by piece.

"Wait, freeze that right there!" Booth said suddenly, right when the figure had completed his mission and was folding up the paper and stuffing it into his pocket. Booth stuck his finger on the screen, pointing at the paper. "Can you zoom in here?"

Cam nodded, manipulating some controls on the keyboard until the folded paper, frozen in the intruder's hand right before it was stuffed in his pocket, took up about 85% of the screen. The other side of the paper was now showing and the viewers could read part of the words – 'dicated to my' before the rest of the word disappeared behind the fold. 

"I recognize that skeleton," Booth said, quickly standing and running to grab a book from Bones' bookshelf in her office. He returned, opening to the dedication page of her latest book – the one dedicated to him. "It's printed on the back page of the dedication page," he said, flipping the page to reveal the skeleton. "Rewind the film a bit to see if he's made any markings on the page."

Cam complied and rewound the footage in slow motion, stopping when the figure lifted the sheet from the table at the conclusion of piecing together the skeleton and started to fold it. Now unfolded, the group could see the complete, unobscured dedication page – where they noted 'Special Agent Seeley Booth' was marked out with a thick marker.

Booth pressed his lips together and glanced at Sweets. "What does that mean? Why would he cross my name out?"

Sweets shrugged, "Jealousy. He's obviously already made this very personal to you, Agent Booth, considering the FBI said he left something specifically for you at Dr. Brennan's residence, and now we see he's angry that you have a place in her life. It's possible that this whole event occurred the same time that a very favorable article was printed in _Scientific America _about you two, portraying you as a romantic couple, for a reason. The man is jealous. Thus, he blocks out your existence on the dedication page."

Booth's face dropped a few shades of white. "But that doesn't mean this is directly your fault," Sweets hurried to say before Hodgins quickly cut him off with a sharp look. Booth ignored the men, focusing on Cam, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. "Continue the tape," the agent directed.

The video began again, showing the figure retreat from the platform and head towards the door then stop suddenly, pull something out of the duffel bag that appeared to be a stack of papers held together with a binder clip, turn to face the security camera directly, and wave into the lens. He then entered Dr. Brennan's office, could be seen leaving the stack of papers in one of the files in her filing cabinet, pulled something out of his pocket to place on top, then left the building altogether.

Booth stood immediately and ran towards the filing cabinet in Dr. Brennan's office, flinging it open. "Why the _hell_ wouldn't they look in here," he muttered under his breath, cursing his coworker's so-called 'thorough search.' He opened and closed each drawer until he reached a drawer where a red rose was sticking out of the top of one of the files.

The agent pulled the file out of the drawer and laid it on Brennan's desk, noting that it was labeled 'personal.' The squints crowded him as he opened the file, revealing the document. 'The Last Will and Testament of Dr. Temperance Brennan,' read the cover page.

A collective sharp intake of breath erupted around the room. Booth wordlessly stared at the paper for a moment before abruptly grabbing his jacket and walking out.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"John, I'm headed to the cemetery now. See you soon," Agent Booth hung up on his fellow FBI agent after barking a brief message into his cell phone.

The cemetery he could deal with. It was a tangible thing – a place he had been before with Bones and a place he would no doubt unfortunately visit again. He had two reasons to go there – Christine Brennan was buried there and the cemetery had been named on a piece of evidence directly involved in this investigation.

Booth knew that in any other case, going to the cemetery would be a necessary step in the process and would likely wield some tangible evidence, perhaps even lead the way to solving the case. He should be happy to be on his way to a location that would most likely help him better understand what happened to his partner.

But the image of Bones' Will spread out on the desk in front of him was burned into his mind. Even though evidence had been piling up in support of his partner being dead and lying on that examination table, Booth had not once lost hope. But the presence of her Will… Something about the finality of reading that cover sheet had suddenly slammed him head first into the _reality_ of it all.

He knew, without a trace of doubt, that if this had been any other case, both he and Bones would be utterly convinced the victim was dead and the murderer was still on the loose.

Booth pounded his fist into the steering wheel. _Think like a squint_, he told himself. He unconsciously actually physically squint his eyes as he did his best to shove all emotion out of the equation and reason through the evidence. Taking a deep breath, the agent started walking through every piece of information he had relating to the case, aloud, carefully referring to his partner as 'Dr. Brennan' so as to remain as removed from the situation as possible.

"The skull…" He trailed off about five minutes into his monologue, hitting a stopping block. "Whoever arranged the bones wasn't smart enough to arrange them correctly, but they did have the tools necessary to clean the skeleton and remove the skull without causing damage to the other bones."

Getting even further lost in his line of reasoning, Booth continued talking out loud. "So, maybe the person who planted that skeleton didn't actually _do _any of the damage that we saw? Maybe he just stole the skeleton, and used it as a scare tactic. I mean, if I didn't work with you all the time, _I _wouldn't know how to clean a skele…" Booth glanced over at the passenger seat, eager to hear his partner's reaction to his hypothesis.

Only to be met with emptiness.

The agent's devastation was sudden and unexpected. He had forgotten – just for a moment – who the skeleton might actually be. He had gotten so caught up in the case and was so used to bouncing his ideas off his partner, the reminder of her absence was all the more intense.

He was about to pull over to the side of the road as tears collected in his eyes when his sorrow was interrupted by the sharp chirp of his cell phone. He cleared his throat quickly and flipped it open, "Booth."

"How far away are you?" The voice of Agent McKnowles echoed through the line, gruff and hurried.

Booth glanced at his speedometer and did some quick math in his head. "Only about 5 minutes, I'd say."

"I need you to go back to the lab," McKnowles ordered sharply.

Booth caught the worried tone in his voice and called him out on it, "What's wrong? Did they hear from her? From the kidnapper? What did you find? Did something happen at the lab?"

His co-worker paused for a moment, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "No, nothing like that."

The weighty silence that followed spoke volumes. Booth could tell McKnowles had discovered something he was reluctant to share.

"I'm still here, Agent," Booth reminded him. He was a grown man. He needed to know what had been discovered, no matter how much it hurt.

"I… I just don't think you're going to like what we've found here. And you're definitely not going to like what we haven't found," the other agent responded, sounding uncomfortable.

"Dammit, stop talking in riddles. I can barely understand the squints, so I can't have you speaking crazy too," Booth commanded. He kept driving towards the cemetery. He was not going back to the lab. No chance. The cemetery had answers – or at least held the possibility of answers. The lab had The Will, which he was in no way prepared to face and was absolutely not going to.

"Listen, Booth, we found something. And you're not going to like it, not at all. I'm just bracing you. We found… Some bones. That look like pieces of a skull. I already called the lab to get that genius guy – was it Zac? – out here to piece them together for us."

Booth sighed. "Ok, well, that's not so bad. A skull… Well, a skull is crucial in helping with the identification." The identification which could either conclusively prove that his partner was lying dead on a table or was still out there somewhere, held against her will be an insane man. "It may not give me the answer I want, but it's like Christine Brennan's remains – we need it to discover the truth."

He was met with silence on the other end.

"McKnowles? What aren't you telling me?" Booth pulled into the cemetery entrance as he spoke, knowing he would find out soon, whether the man volunteered the information or not.

"It's _where_ we discovered the bones that you're not going to like, Seeley." The calm, sympathetic tone his fellow agent suddenly adopted made Booth's blood run cold for the 5th time that day.

He was nearing the plot of land where he and Bones had visited her mother's grave, and the agent could see squad cars and FBI agents swarming the area. "Where, John?"

By now, Booth had parked the car and was approaching the headstone on foot, straining to see the man he was currently speaking with. As he got within earshot of the grave, McKnowles' voice rang in his head. "To your left, Booth."

Booth snapped his phone shut upon seeing the agent wave from a cemetery adjacent to Christine Brennan's. "John, why are you over here? Why aren't you…"

He trailed off, looking down at the cemetery he now stood in front of. The earth was freshly dug, and the headstone seemed brand new, still unaged by weather and time. Neatly inscribed into the headstone was one simple word.

BONES

* * * * * *

"Ok," Dr. Lance Sweets said quietly a few moments following Booth's sudden departure, claiming the attention of everyone in Brennan's office. "Since we are now dealing with straight-up mind games here, I'd like to suggest that you all go back to the tasks you were assigned by Booth _before_ this will came into play." 

He walked over to the desk and gingerly picked up the personal file containing the will by its corner. "I'll get someone to run this for fingerprints and other evidence and see if we can get it authenticated. If this is in fact Dr. Brennan's legal will, I think it's best that I be the one who handles it. Considering there have yet to be any list of demands and the kidnapper seems intent on proving that Dr. Brennan is already dead, the only reasons he would plant this will are purely psychological."

The squints all nodded mechanically, retreating from the room and returning to their stations. Cam stayed behind for a moment, grabbing Sweets' sleeve before he left with the file. "Dr. Sweets," she said quietly, waiting for him to turn and face her. "In your professional opinion, as a trained psychologist…" He clenched his teeth, knowing where Dr. Soroyan was going. "In your opinion… As someone who studies killers… Do you think she's already dead?"

Sweets glanced briefly towards the platform, aware that Cam was speaking on behalf of the squints, who were all listening intently. He returned his focus to Cam, using the most soothing tone he could conjure up. "Dr. Soroyan, I don't know why someone would go to all this trouble if she was still alive." Upon seeing Cam's reaction, he continued, "And you know you agree with me. Otherwise you never would have asked."

And with that grim declaration, the young psychologist turned and walked quickly towards the FBI building.

* * * * * *

"Are you and Angela back together?" Zac asked Hodgins as he hovered over the skeleton, half an hour after Sweets' exit. 

Hodgins looked up from his microscope and slowly rotated to stare at Zac with disbelieving eyes. "Are you _kidding me_, man?"

Zac shook his head. "I don't know how to kid."

"Seriously? You are standing up there with what could be – hell, with what is _probably_ Dr. Brennan's leg in your hand, and you're asking me about my damned _love life_?"

The younger genius raised one of his eyebrows at Hodgins in slight amusement. "Hodgins, this is a femur, not a leg. A 'leg,' as you put it, consists of multiple bones, as well as many layers of tissue and veins ." Hodgins continued to stare at him, waiting for Zac to justify the context of his question. "I merely asked because I observed the way you were comforting her earlier – it seemed like a very intimate action."

Hodgins' features melted a bit, realizing Zac was trying to re-connect. Even in the midst of all of this, it was difficult to face the fact that Zac would inevitably have to return to the institution. "No, we're not," he sighed. "I just… I'm trying to help her. Brennan was her best friend."

Zac nodded as Hodgins continued. "And… Quite frankly, I _need_ to comfort her. I was trapped with Dr. Brennan in that car, and I know how logically she reacts when in life threatening situations. She puts all her faith in Booth. And if I know she trusts Booth 100% with her life, then Booth _definitely _knows that."

He sunk down into his chair, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "I just can't help but hurt for Booth. He can't do _anything _right now. The guy didn't make any demands, no attempt for a ransom, just… _Took_ her. God knows, if anything happened to Angela, I would spend every damn cent I have to get her back, and then go into debt paying people off to kill the son of a bitch who took her. But Booth… He has no way of getting the guy."

The entomologist's reflections were interrupted by the sharp sound of heels clicking down the hallway. "_Is_ my best friend," Angela said loudly, quickly approaching the platform until she was standing toe to toe with Hodgins.

"What?" Hodgins asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"You just said Brennan _was _my best friend," the artist accused, pointing her finger into Hodgins' chest. "She _is_, Jack. She _is_ my best friend. Present. Tense."

Hodgins nodded, realizing she had just heard everything he had told Zac. As he opened his mouth to come up with some sort of explanation that would allow her to realize that while he clearly still loved her, she wasn't expected to return the feeling, Cam interrupted them.

"Dr. Addy! I need you and Dr. Hodgins to go to St. Charles' cemetery," she announced, striding quickly up the platform and flipping her phone shut. "They've found what appears to be a skull."

Zac looked up, alert. "Perhaps the missing skull. And are Christine Brennan's remains on their way over here?"

Cam grimaced, hesitant to relay the last bit of information Agent McKnowles had just shared with her. "No, it's not… It looks like the body has been removed from the grave."


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day (the day after). Was yours bad? Yup, me too. Sorry it's been a few days since I last updated, but I knew these few chapters would be so angst-filled, I kept putting off writing them. But I figured, well, the day after Valentine's Day is as good a day as any to mourn the loss of love, right? Make me happy with reviews and I'll make you happy with more story. Ya dig? **___

_**PS – I'm not promising a happy ending or a sad ending, nor will I say if Bones is dead or not. You'll have to wait and find out. I'll just tell you some things that will NOT be happening in this story: No one will propose marriage to anyone else. No one will discover they're pregnant. Zac will not blow himself up again, nor will he blow up anything else. And Cam, in keeping with her character on the show, will not be seen eating.**_

_**PSPS – Your reviews are far and away the nicest things I've ever read. I truly, sincerely thank you and am thrilled you're enjoying the story.**_

Chapter 8

"You found the skull fragments buried in a grave labeled 'Bones,'" Booth said, looking directly at McKnowles.

"Yes, sir," the agent said, hearing the anger creeping into Booth's voice.

Booth crossed his arms tightly in front of his body, violently constraining himself from punching McKnowles in the face just because he happened to be standing in front of him. "Ok," he nodded. "What about Christine Brennan?"

Typically Booth felt hopeful went it came to exhumations. When a body was on the table and Bones was able to examine it, she was always able to provide Booth with the answers to all of his questions. But this exhumation he was equally dreading and looking forward to – the results from _this_ exhumation could either give him hope or destroy him.

McKnowles shifted uncomfortably, motioning to the grave behind them, which Booth now realized appeared disturbed. "Well, as you can see, it's been emptied. Recently."

Booth clenched his arms tighter around his body and clenched his jaw so tightly he thought it might snap. "So we have no body to compare the skeleton to?" He asked, knowing the answer. "But we do have skull fragments?"

McKnowles nodded, somewhat surprised with Booth's ability to keep his temper in check. He knelt down on his knees in front of the BONES grave and motioned toward the dirt, "As soon as we saw this new grave, we immediately dug in. We found a ton of pieces of bone – that dirt squint of yours is going to check to see if there's any evidence or bone pieces left in the dirt, and the Zac guy is going to piece the skull together."

Booth nodded, "Then Angela can make a positive identification."

McKnowles nodded. "Well, then it looks like you've got it under control here," Booth said abruptly, spinning sharply on his heel and stalking away before the squints got there. He didn't want to deal with any more inquisitive eyes.

Booth slid into the driver's seat of his car, peeling out of the cemetery as fast as humanly possible, and making a beeline for the gun range. He spent a full hour and a half unloading rounds into the targets from every type of gun he had, spinning the evidence around in his head.

The skeleton. The ring. The will. The funeral invitation. The blood on her sheets. The gravestone. That damned _ring_ on the skeleton's damned _finger._

The evidence was too much – he knew everyone else in the lab no longer believed they were searching for Brennan's captor, but rather her killer. He knew the moment each of them had lost hope. For Sweets it had been when he saw the will. For Cam it had been the moment she saw the amount of blood on those sheets. For Mr. Nigel Murray it had been when Zac was listing the extent of the skeleton's injuries, all of which matched Bones' injuries.

The memory made Booth wince. Those injuries he knew nothing about from her foster days. Injuries he had been unable to do anything about. Horrible people he had been unable to protect her from.

Booth lowered his gun and punched a nearby wall so hard his knuckles drew blood again. The fact that he was probably doing permanent damage to his fingers didn't even register with the agent as he mechanically loaded his gun again, raised and aimed at the target, getting his mind back on track.

For Hodgins it had been the moment he saw the security video of the guy laying out the bones. For Angela it had been the moment she saw Hodgins lose faith.

But Zac was the worst. For Zac, it had been the moment he saw the skeleton on the table – the very moment he walked into the lab. And that realization had hurt Booth most of all. Of all the squints he had seen Bones deal with, Zac was the only one she would fully trust. Which was good enough for Booth. And if Zac thought the skeleton was Bones'…

He kept firing until he could no longer see through the tears in his eyes.

* * * * * *

After a fellow agent had quietly put a hand on one of his shoulders and calmly told him the range was closing for the night, Booth had mechanically nodded and headed for the gym, changed clothes, and gone for a run. A very long run through D.C. very late at night, unarmed.

Booth hadn't paid a bit of attention to his surroundings, didn't seem to notice or care the neighborhoods he ran through, and didn't even bother checking for uncoming traffic when he crossed the road. His rage was so great he was doing everything he could to burn up his energy – energy that he desperately wanted to use to kill the man who had taken Bones. The helplessness and overwhelming frustration he felt at _not knowing_ who that man was only fueled that rage. Plus, no one needed him right now – everyone was tracking a lead that would take a couple hours at least to follow through. Booth knew cranial reconstructions often took Bones all night to conduct. So Booth kept running until his legs burned so much he literally could not move any more.

As he got back into his car, dripping sweat and shivering in the cold, his phone chirped again. "Booth," he picked up immediately.

"Agent Booth, the will had no fingerprints or trace evidence on it – it was clean. It appears the man took it out of Dr. Brennan's office at her house and brought it to the lab. It was notarized and is her actual legal will," Sweets immediately informed him without so much as a greeting. Booth remained silent.

"Agent Booth? I've been updated by Dr. Soroyan regarding the cemetery findings. I've also read today's obituary and realize that right now you may feel-"

"Obituary?" Booth asked sharply, cutting the psychologist off. "What obituary?"

On the other end of the line, Booth could practically hear the psychologist cursing his own stupidity. "Oh… I thought you had already been informed. Otherwise, I would not have just so casually-"

"Sweets!"

"Right. Well, um. In today's paper, there was an obituary listing for Dr. Brennan. Your basic 'world-renowned anthropologist and author Temperance Brennan passed away this weekend' bit," Sweets informed him. "We've got the FBI tracing who placed the obit through the paper."

Silence.

"Agent Booth?"

All Sweets heard in response was the ominous click signaling the agent had hung up.

The agent drove quietly, almost in a trancelike state, to her house, half expecting the FBI team to still be combing over her house. Instead, he found her home empty and had a quick start of excitement upon seeing her car in the drive before remembering that it had been there all weekend. It didn't mean Bones was home.

Walking briskly through the front door – this time using the key Bones had given him – Booth quietly, almost reverently shut the door behind him and slid the lock closed. He made his way silently through her house, checking each room for her presence out of habit, and of course in vain.

Her bed had been stripped of its sheets and the mattress, which had also been soaked through with blood, had been transported to the Jeffersonian, leaving only an empty box frame sitting in the corner. The agent slowly sank unto the box frame and paused, seeing the pictures on his partner's nightstand. In one, Russ, Max, and Russ' girls were crowded together under Christmas decorations, smiling as Brennan took a picture during what was clearly their prison trailer Christmas party. The other photo was of himself and Brennan, dressed to the nines at the Egyptian exhibit in her honor. He smiled, remembering the moment Angela had taken the candid shot. Brennan had just finished delivering the speech she had dreaded and was walking offstage, directly into the arms of Booth, who had been proudly waiting to intercept her offstage.

Booth reverently placed the frame back on the table, tilted his head back against the headboard, and pulled out the crumpled picture of a battered Bones he had been carrying around in his pocket all day.

Only then did he finally allow himself to grieve.


	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: PLEASE READ: I UPLOADED SEVERAL CHAPTERS TODAY – PLEASE GO BACK TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVEN'T SKIPPED ANY! Thanks! **___

Chapter 9

The sun pouring through the blinds woke Booth up slowly after a very restless night. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes, and glanced at his surroundings.

"Ohhhh that hurts," He groaned quietly, realizing he had fallen asleep awkwardly crammed against Bones' headboard. As he straightened, he rubbed his neck, already feeling the painful cramp that was forming there.

Glancing at his phone he saw that it was 10:15 a.m. "Dammit!" He muttered, quickly standing and running a hand through his hair. He had 5 missed calls – 1 from Cam, 2 from Sweets, 1 from John, and 1 from Angela. As he pulled his jacket over his shoulders, Booth caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over Bones' dresser and froze.

He looked awful. His eyes were completely bloodshot and there were obviously tear tracks dried down his face. He hadn't shaved in a few days – and his hair was sticking out at odd angles. To top it all off, his clothes were a wrinkled mess. The agent quickly considered his options – run home, change and shower; freshen up here; or go to the lab looking like he had been up all night crying.

Deciding on the fastest way, Booth pulled his jacket off again and headed for the bathroom, where he splashed some cold water on his face, combed his hair to look somewhat presentable, and used the toothbrush Bones had let him stash in here during one of the many nights he crashed on her couch under the his claim of wanting to 'protect her.' Another glance in the mirror showed him he still didn't look much better. But why did he care, he reasoned.

Bones was missing. And probably, he was finally able to admit to himself, dead.

Glancing back at the bedside table containing the two framed photographs he had been studying the previous evening, he saw the newspaper he had purchased last night containing Bones' obituary. He grimaced, remembering the exact language of the obituary. "Dr. Temperance Brennan's life was cut short this weekend while her partner was away for personal reasons."

As Booth pulled his jacket on again, a rustling noise caused him to look down and see the picture he had been clutching all night fall from the pocket down to the floor.

Bending over to pick it up, Booth froze as something clicked in his mind. He had been staring at this picture _all night_ and had never once made the connection.

Quickly, he ran towards his car and sped to the lab.

* * * * * *

"Zac! Where are you! Get your ass over here!" Booth yelled, storming into the lab. All eyes looked at him in astonishment.

"Whoa, you look like hell man," Hodgins said in concern, approaching the agent.

Booth waved him away, bounding up the platform steps two at a time to slap the crumpled picture of a beaten Dr. Brennan on the table in front of her former intern.

"Whoa," Vincent said, eyes widening. "She appears to be quite-"

"Yeah, shut it, Vinny," Booth said, looking at Zac, who was focused intently on the photograph.

"Zac, are the injuries –" Booth started, but was cut off by Zac, who was, as always, two steps ahead of everyone.

"No. They are not congruent." He stated loudly.

Booth's eyes widened, biting back a grin that was threatening to erupt across his face. "Angela!" He shouted down the hall toward her office, whistling with his fingers. 

"What – Booth's here?" He heard Angela ask herself as the artist emerged from her office, where she had clearly spent the night if her hair and smudged makeup were any indication, and hurry toward the platform.

He held up the photograph right in front of the artist's face. "Can you tell if this was photoshopped in any way?"

The image she had been trying to push out of her head of her best friend bloodied and broken caused Angela to gasp. "Oh God!" She whispered, placing a hand over her mouth, tears threatening to spill.

"Ange! Focus! I think she's alive! I think it's ok!" Booth reassured her, grasping her shoulder. "Just _tell me_ if this photo is accurate."

Angela nodded and grabbed the photo, scanning it into a nearby computer and pulling it up. "Just a cursory glance at the picture blown up to 300x magnification, I'd say it's legit," she said, glancing up at Booth. "I can be more sure if I look at it closer with my equipment," she said. "Why? Is that good or bad?"

Booth smiled grimly, "Well it's bad because it means she actually sustained those injuries."

"But good because none of the injuries that appear in that photograph are in any way represented in this skeleton," Zac interjected loudly.

Before Hodgins or Vincent could react, Sweets' voice echoed across the lab. "Agent Booth! I don't think she's dead!"

All heads turned to face the young doctor who was jogging in with the will tucked under his arm.

Unable to resist, Booth bit back a grin. "Oh yeah? Neither do we."

Sweets stopped jogging and looked at Booth incredulously. "Really? I thought I was going to run in here and…. Well, rats."

Giving up on _ever_ topping the agent at his own game, Sweets walked towards an empty table and placed the will on top of it. "How do you know?"

"Skeletal proof," Zac stated. Sweets nodded, looking at Booth who just shrugged. "You know, squint stuff. Why do _you_ know?" He asked, egging the frustrated psychologist on.

After some muttering about stealing thunder and egotistical cops, Sweets flipped through Dr. Brennan's will to the first page. "The will. According to the profile of the killer – _captor_ – that I've developed, we've seen one thing in his behavior, a pattern repeated over and over. He is very personally angry of _you_, Agent Booth. Jealous, even. All of the evidence we've found has been directly meant for you. He's so jealous of your place in Dr. Brennan's life he would go so far as to erase your existence from her books. In the obituary in the newspaper he included that line about you being out of town for 'personal reasons.' It was completely unnecessary to include, but he added it to make you shoulder the blame. The headstone marking her fake grave even used your nickname for her: Bones."

Sweets paused to take a breath as the squints and Booth looked on. "And?" Booth prompted.

The psychologist held up the will and handed it to Booth. "And if that is true, if he is jealous of your connection with Dr. Brennan, he would _never_ kill her."

Booth wrinkled his forehead. "Because of this will?" He held it up, still a bit reluctant to read it.

Sweets shook his head. "Because of what it says. Booth," he paused, looking the agent directly in the eye, willing him to understand the enormity of what he was about to say. "Dr. Brennan listed you as her sole benefactor in her will. Everything she has would go to you in the event of her death. Book rights, movie deals from those book rights, any proceeds related to her research, literally _everything_. Even most her material possessions she has left to you."

You would have been able to hear a pin drop from three offices down, the silence on the platform was so complete. "Everything?" Booth asked quietly, his voice threatening to break.

Sweets nodded, "Everything." He glanced at the shocked Angela standing slightly behind Booth. "She included you, Angela, in the will of course, along with Dr. Hodgins and Zac and her brother and father. You would all receive a specified amount of money, and she's listed some material possessions – things which seem to be of mostly sentimental value – for you to inherit. For her brother's children she's left some money for schooling."

He turned his glance back to Booth, "But all her material possessions that aren't specifically listed as meant for others would go to you. And the money."

Booth stood, completely shell-shocked. "Why would she…" He started, but Sweets cut him off.

"Sometimes in a will, the deceased will include a letter that explains what the benefactors meant to them and why they'll be receiving what, et cetera. And it's possible Dr. Brennan had such a letter intended for you, further detailing her decision. But if that's the case, then either the captor chose not to include it or destroyed it out of jealousy. But honestly, I think we both know Dr. Brennan's not the sentimental type."

Booth just nodded, slowly breaking out of his shock to prompt Sweets once more, "But how does this prove that she's not dead?"

Sweets raised his arms in disbelief. "Don't you see? If you stand to gain everything when Dr. Brennan dies, why would _he_, a man already so jealous of your connection with her, kill her so that can happen? He would want to keep that connection for himself – keep her alive so that he can feel the false sense of security that everything she has, everything she _is_, belongs to _him. _The moment he kills her, everything she was is _yours._"

Booth nodded in understanding, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning back slowly against the railing of the platform. "Ok…. Ok…" He trailed off, staring into space.

Angela slowly walked over and picked the will out of Booth's hands and skimmed through the document, smiling through tears when she read the items her friend had intended for her to inherit. Although Brennan would never admit it, Angela had always known how much their silly, spontaneous college adventures had meant to her best friend. And the few sentimental items listed here proved it.

Booth rolled his head from side to side a few times, loosening his neck before excusing himself to the bathroom. Sweets joined Vincent and Zac at the examination table, where the scientists were carefully comparing the skeleton to the photograph, point by point, the half-completed skull reconstruction sitting to the side, momentarily forgotten. Hodgins joined Angela with the will, putting a reassuring arm around her shoulder and smiling at her as she grasped his hand tightly.

Ten or fifteen minutes passed in which everyone focused on the hope that Brennan was still alive. The brief respite after nearly two days of utter despair, and the calm before the storm of beginning an intense search for her. Booth returned to the platform, pacing slowly as he ran his hand through his hair, staying as far away from Angela and the will as possible. No one commented on his red eyes.

"Booth!" Cam's voice reached the platform before she did. "_Please_ tell me someone has spoken with him today!" She yelled, pulling out her cell phone and dialing his number without even looking up.

"Yes, Cam?" He picked up, causing her to look up at the man standing 5 feet away from her on his phone.

"Oh, thank God," she said, hanging up and hurrying towards Brennan's office. "Follow me!" She shouted behind her, causing all 6 sets of curious eyes to follow her into the office where they found her turning on Brennan's radio and tuning to a local talk show.

"Cam, wha-?" Booth started. "Shh!" He was cut off by Cam, waving her hands for silence.

"For those of you tuning in, we're discussing the rumor that best selling author Dr. Temperance Brennan is dead," the lively talk show host's voice filled the room. "After reading that obituary this weekend, what else are we supposed to think? I did some Googling, and it looks like the Jeffersonian, where she works, has yet to release any sort of public statement. But we've got a guy on the phone here who says he's a close personal friend of Dr. Brennan and there's no way she's dead. Why is that, sir? Have you spoken with her?"

A voice that Booth instantly recognized but could not for the life of him attach to a face filled the room, "Well, let's just say I _know_ Temperance. And I know that that FBI boy toy of hers would _never_ let something happen to her. I mean, what kind of a partner would he be if he just let her get _taken _out from under his nose like that? Clearly he cares nothing about her."

The blood drained from Booth's face as he stared fixated on the radio, closing his eyes and silently praying Bones, wherever she was, wasn't hearing this trash.

"FBI partner?" The radio host asked.

"Yeah, you know, the guy the Jeffersonian stuck her with. I know she does everything she can to get away from him, but he follows her around like some over controlling husband. Ah…" He paused, and muffled shuffling noises came across the speaker. "You know the guy. Hey, honey?" He called, moving his mouth away from the phone, clearly speaking with someone. "Honey, what is that FBI agent's name?"

More muffled shuffling noises came across the line and what sounded like a soft groan could be heard in the background. Then suddenly, very clearly, Temperance Brennan's tired and raspy voice echoed tiredly across the room. "Booth!"

_**A/N Part Two: C'mon. I think I deserve a review after THAT.**_


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Booth froze, squeezing his eyes shut and willing Bones to say more. But the man hung up, leaving the talk show host confused and forced to cut to commercials.

Taking a deep breath, Booth reminded himself this was very good news. Bones was definitely alive – beyond a shadow of a doubt. He whipped out his cell phone and started barking orders. "Jonathan! Did you hear the interview? Good. See what you can trace through the radio station."

Snapping the phone shut, he focused on Angela, "Can you try to clear out the background noise?" When the artist nodded, Booth moved on to Cam, "And how's it coming with tracing the obit?" She shook her head.

"Coming up only dead ends, Seeley. This interview is our best lead."

Booth nodded grimly, running his hand through his hair and realizing that this was their _only_ lead.

The squint squad stood there staring at him, awaiting orders. "What?" He asked harshly, willing them to get out of his face so he could disappear.

Hodgins took the hint and put his hands firmly on the backs of both anthropologists, angling them forcefully out of the office. "I don't understand. Booth didn't tell us to leave," Booth heard Zac mutter to Jack as they walked away.

Sweets, now alone in the room with Booth, slowly approached the agent with an understanding gleam in his eye. "You recognized that voice," he said, already knowing the answer.

Booth nodded, placing both hands firmly on his hips and tilting his head forward, studying the ground intently. "Yeah…. And I just _can't _remember who it is!" He said, kicking the wall, frustrated. "I think… I _know_ it's someone I've interrogated. Before my whole brain thing, you know? I just can't put my finger on it because of my _damn_ surgery!"

The agent grew increasingly angry, noticeably restraining himself for beating his head against the wall in frustration.

Sweets held his hand up to restrain such brash actions, "Agent Booth. Perhaps I can help."

The agent stopped kicking things to look up at him doubtfully.

"Ok, I need you to sit down on this couch." The agent begrudgingly did as he was ordered, putting both hands behind his head to stretch his sore shoulders. "Ok, relax. Close your eyes."

The agent followed orders, breathing deeply to control his overwhelming emotions.

"Alright, now this person is someone who has clearly dealt with both you and Dr. Brennan directly. Not only is this anger personally directed toward you, the desire is personally directed at Dr. Brennan, and he clearly knows how to push your buttons. I believe you've met him – you've _both_ met him – personally."

Booth nodded, running a list of images through his head of suspects he and his partner had interrogated. "I think this is someone who would definitely stick out in your mind. I see how angry you get with Dr. Brennan is threatened. I think it's likely this is someone who has acted possessively toward Dr. Brennan before but perhaps never appeared as a true threat because he never acted on it. The most he would do would be to vocally proclaim his desires, or act out scenarios in which he could control her in the privacy of his own home, but has never actively attempted anything controlling in the real world. It would be a risk for him to even touch her," the psychologist continued.

Booth's eyebrows creased, something Sweets had said had pricked a hazy memory. "The Brennanites," he said quietly, quickly snapping his eyes open and looking up. "The Brennanites!" He said again, stronger. "There's a whole online community of people rabidly obsessed with Bones – they all get on this message board and discuss whether or not it would be possible to actually do any of the things listed in Bones' books."

He stood excitedly as more pieces clicked together in his head, "In my book – the one dedicated to me – she goes into detail about how to clean a body in under 24 hours using common bugs you can buy at the store! She talks about how long a cranial recon-whatever takes!"

By this point the agent was pacing again, arms moving up and down excitedly. He pulled out his cell phone, prepared to call Agent McKnowles again and order an investigation into any and all activity at the Brennanite chat room, when Sweets said something that pulled him to a halt.

"Yes, that's good, but Agent Booth: You need to actually know this guy. What Brennanites do you personally know? They would be exhibiting signs of love toward Dr. Brennan and very likely signs of fear and intimidation toward you. Someone you've almost certainly threatened but never taken seriously. That kind of attitude, the idea that they're not being taken seriously, can anger someone to lash out," prodded the psychiatrist.

Booth pressed the palms of both of his hands against his eyes, squeezing them shut in deep concentration. "I don't know, Sweets! I just don't know! Before the surgery I know I would be able to tell you. Hell, I'd already be on my way to his house, but _now_…" He groaned in frustration, rolling his shoulders with pent-up nervous energy.

Sweets took a deep breath and decided that if there was ever a time to use this tactic, it was now. "Agent Booth, I think you need to recognize that there are certain… _emotional_ connections coming into play that would not be present in any other investigation."

Booth stopped moving and just froze at Sweets with the all-too-familiar 'I'll shoot you' look.

Wincing, the young doctor pressed on. "With your love for Dr. Brennan, you tend to… _over react_ when men approach her, much less hit on her. I have no doubt that while you may not remember the face of every criminal you've interrogated, you _do_ remember the face of every man Dr. Brennan has ever been involved with or threatened by. You need to recognize that perhaps your emotions are blinding your logic and you –"

"YOU need to _recognize_ that I can easily kick your ass for even –" Booth cut Sweets off in anger but then froze, hand halfway to his gun. "Oliver," he whispered, staring into space.

"What?" Sweets asked, confused, happy to have escaped danger for now. 

"Oliver," Booth said in a clearer, stronger voice, looking up at the psychiatrist. "Bones' stalker. Oliver. He's never done anything _truly_ bad before, but all the signs are there."

Sweets nodded, "And is it possible that the magazine article this weekend implying that you are romantically linked could have thrown him over the edge?"

Booth nodded enthusiastically, "Last time I got rough with him for just trying to touch her face. It's gotta be him!" The agent got more and more sure about his conclusion the more he thought about it.

Without another word to Sweets, Booth whipped out his cell phone to alert Agent McKnowles to the latest development and sprinted towards the parking garage.

"You're… Welcome?" Sweets said to himself, rolling his eyes to the now empty room.


	12. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm back in the game, though! **___

Chapter 11

Booth flew down the road with lights and siren blaring, barking out orders to his FBI colleagues on his cell phone with instructions for them to meet at Oliver's apartment.

"Seeley," Agent McKnowles demanded, "I need you to wait for us before you approach the premises. Do you understand?" 

Booth hissed in frustration, rolling his eyes as he ran a red light. Did these people honestly think he was going to wait when Bones' life was in danger? "Got it, _John_," he said condescendingly, reminding his colleague not to call him by his first name.

"That's not me advising it, Booth, that's a direct order for the bigwigs, got it?"

"Mm-hmm," Booth hummed, barely listening as he made the final turn onto Oliver's street.

"Oh, and another thing? Tech confirmed it – the number that called into the radio station is Oliver's home number. That's enough to warrant an arrest right there," McKnowles finished.

"Great," Booth acknowledged, slamming his car into park in a spot in front of the apartment complex and slamming the door behind him. "I'm going in."

"Wait, what? Booth! I told you to WAIT FOR BACKUP, do you understand? You're too personally involved to do this without-"

"See ya soon, John." Booth said, snapping his phone shut, cutting the agent off. It really made absolutely zero difference to him at this point if he was completely fired. As long as Bones was safe, he'd be happy.

Booth ran up the stairs, stopping only to kick Oliver's door down. "Oliver! FBI! You get out here and tell me where Bones is NOW!" He shouted, spinning around the room, gun drawn.

When he didn't see Bones' stalker in the main room, he ran to the bedroom and broke down _that_ door. He knew it was unnecessary, but he was in a destructive mood. Oliver could deal.

"Oliver! Where is Bones?" He yelled when he finally found the man crouched behind a chair in his bedroom, where he had apparently fled as soon as he heard Booth at the front door.

"I don't know!" He said quietly, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, like _hell _you don't know," Booth said, roughly grabbing Oliver up from the ground and pushing him up against the wall.

Oliver looked terrified as Booth leaned closer to his face and lowered his voice to a deadly whisper. "You listen to me _very carefully_. I know you took her Friday. I know you beat her up. I know you've been playing mind games with us for _three days_," at 'three days,' the agent pushed his gun tightly against Oliver's temple.

The stalker's eyes widened in fear. "And I know that _you're_ the one who did this Oliver, I know that _you're_ the one took her and who _hurt her_, because you called that radio station. From this apartment. And you read all the Brennanite blogs so you would know exactly how to fake skeletal remains. Now you tell me RIGHT. NOW."

Booth made a show of switching the safety off and pressing the gun so close he was starting to draw blood. "Where. Is. She."

Unable to stop them, Oliver's tears that had been welling up began to fall down his face. "I don't know, Agent Booth, I swear! I don't know what you're talking about!" He whispered. "I would never, _never_ hurt Temperance. I love her, you know that. Please don't kill me…" He trailed off, begging.

Booth stared straight into Oliver's eyes for a full 15 seconds, searching for some indication that he was lying. Finally he lowered his gun and put it back in the holster, backing up slightly. Oliver sighed in relief as he rubbed his temple with shaking hands.

"Not good enough," Booth said, surprising the man with a punch directly to his jaw.

He continued punching until Agent McKnowles and his team arrived 5 minutes later and pulled him away from a bloody, unconscious Oliver.

* * * * * *

Two days later Booth sat in his couch at home, hunched over a pile of photographs and documents on his coffee table.

After beating Oliver to within an inch of his life, he had been yanked off the case and immediately put on probation for a month. Which was fine with Booth. If Bones was dead, there was no way he was returning to work without her as his partner anyway. He'd work at McDonald's for the rest of his life for all he cared.

In all honesty he should have been fired or at the very least suspended, but it was an unspoken understanding throughout the agency that Bones was Booth's "girl," whether it had been admitted to or not. Other agents had similarly gone off the reservation when their wife or children had been threatened and a their punishment was always a bit softer than it should have been. The same rules apparently applied in this situation.

Groaning, Booth sat back and stretched. He hadn't left the couch in hours and couldn't remember the last time he slept. He had been pouring over all the evidence the FBI had been able to collect on the case and keeping up with the investigation from home. He had called in an old military favor with John and coerced him to go against his superior by leaking all evidence to him as the investigation continued.

After Oliver's arrest – well, hospitalization and _then _arrest – the agents had done a detailed sweep of his apartment in which they discovered tons of evidence that the man was in fact still stalking Bones. Posters and autographed copies of all of her books littered the bookshelves and walls. Candid pictures of her performing daily errands, as recently as the past week, made Booth sick to his stomach. He was in the majority of them and he somehow still hadn't noticed she was being followed.

What was most interesting was Oliver's computer. While the internet history didn't surprise any of them, the agents had discovered that Oliver had pieced together a Temperance Brennan Soundboard by clipping segments of her interviews up and putting them together by phrases so that at the click of a mouse, Oliver could actually create entire conversations. Which, the agents realized, is how he had made it sound like she was saying Booth's name on the radio.

McKnowles had interrogated Oliver, who had explained his radio phone call as his "one chance to get back at the FBI agent – make him feel as bad for losing Temperance as he should."

Booth sighed, rubbing his eyes and sinking deeper into the pillows of his couch. It had been one week – a full _week_ – since anyone had heard from or seen any sign of Bones. And they had no leads. The FBI had released Oliver and been keeping a surveillance team on him, just in case, but could find no evidence that he was in any way involved with the kidnapping. Zac had finished the cranial reconstruction and after Angela's recreation, it was decidedly _not_ Bones… But the blood on her sheets definitely matched her DNA. Her mother's remains had been found dumped haphazardly into a garbage bin a few blocks away from the cemetery.

It had been a week and there was absolutely nothing Booth could do to help find her. Because he had no idea where to look.

Right as his eyes began to drift shut from sheer exhaustion, a sharp rap on his front door caused him to sit up abruptly and snap his eyes open.

"Booth! Open this door!" His ex-girlfriend's muffled voice called through his front door.

"Shit…" Booth muttered under his breath, quickly running a hand through his hair and checking his watch as he ran to answer.

"Daddy!" Parker cried in happiness when Booth opened the door, running in and wrapping his arms around his leg.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Rebecca asked quietly as Booth picked Parker up, hugging him tightly and smiling for the first time in days.

"Bones is missing, Rebecca," Booth said quietly, looking pointedly at her and covering Parker's ears. No reason to worry the kid, too. The agent was the only Booth in love with Bones.

"Oh, no," Rebecca said, eyes widening as she put her hand over her mouth. "How long?"

"A week," he admitted quietly, looking down at his son who was happily tracing Booth's tattoo with his finger.

"I'm so sorry, Seeley," Rebecca said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Do you want me to keep him for the weekend?"

Booth tightened his grip on Parker unconsciously, shaking his head. "No, thank you, though. It'll be good for me to have him."

Rebecca nodded. "Ok. Well, I'll pick him up Monday afternoon." As she pulled out her car keys and blew a goodbye kiss to her son, she called back to Booth, "I'm sure you'll find her Seeley. You always do."

Booth took a deep breath as he nodded goodbye to her, carefully juggling Parker to the other arm as he closed the door behind them.

"Find who, Daddy?" Parker asked, looking up at Book with big eyes. "The bad guys?"

Booth cracked a half-smile at the irony. "Yeah, little man. The bad guys."

He put his son down as he started to squirm to get to Booth's new Wii in the living room. "That's cuz you ALWAYS catch the bad guys," he said completely confident.

The agent followed his son into the room, "I hope you're right, Park," he muttered. "I guess we're playing Wii?" He froze halfway to the TV as he saw Parker staring fixated at the pile of pictures on his coffee table.

"Uhh, Buddy…" He started, hurrying to the table to gather the documents, including the gory picture of Bones, off the table so he didn't scar his son any more than he already had.

"Hey, Daddy?" Parker asked, carefully eyeing a picture in his hand as his dad approached the table. "I thought you didn't like it when Bones had boyfriends."

Parker's comment made Booth halt, completely befuddled. "Well, I don't. What are you – who told you tha – why do you…" He stuttered, unprepared for this turn of conversation.

His son crinkled his eyebrows in concentration as he handed Booth the photograph he had been studying of Oliver's mugshot. "Then why do you have a picture of her boyfriend?"


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Hi! I have enough material figured out to post multiple chapters tonight… Just depends on if I get any reviews… (Hint, hint)**_

Chapter 12

Booth stared frozen at his son. "What are you talking about Parker?" He asked quietly, getting down on his knees and putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, looking directly into his son's eyes.

Parker frowned, "Are you mad at me? I didn't talk to him, Daddy! You told me not to talk to strangers so I don't talk to strangers! Even though he was Bones' friend, so I thought he was your friend, but I didn't! I promise!" He looked at his dad eagerly, tears welling up in his eyes.

Booth frowned, brushing Parker's hair back from his face. "No, buddy. Not mad. And I'm proud of you – you're right, you shouldn't talk to strangers. I'm…" He paused a moment to take a calming breath. He really didn't want to scare his son again. "I'm just surprised you saw her. She didn't tell me you saw her. When did you see Bones, Parker?"

Parker smiled after the reassurance and jumped onto the couch, grabbing a Wii controller and fiddling with the strap. "Right before we went camping!"

Nodding, Booth slid in next to his son, prompting him quietly. "Friday? At Bones' lab?" 

His son paused, looking up from the controller and nodding. "Yeah. Mommy took me to play with Max because you had to work late and that's where I met Bones' boyfriend. I thought _you_ wanted to be her boyfriend, Daddy. Hey! Max taught me how to make a volcano with the stuff we use to dye Easter eggs!"

Booth nodded again, trying to get his son to focus on the point. "That's called vinegar, Parker." He reached over and gently took the Wii controller from his son's grasp, forcing his son to look up at him. "Listen, little man, you are not in trouble, ok? I promise. I just need to know more about what Bones said when you saw her. Hey – pretend you're an FBI agent and you're talking about the bad guys. I need to know _everything_ you remember."

Parker nodded, seeming to grasp the situation. "Ok." He smiled and sat up straighter. "I was with Max and I had to go to the bathroom. He told me he could walk me there but I said I knew where it was, so I went down the hall and… I guess I didn't remember _exactly_, because I went through the wrong door and I was in the parking place. And you and Mommy both say to _never_ be in that big parking garage thing alone, so I turned around to open the door and go back in, but I saw Bones with that guy," Parker paused to gasp for a breath as he pointed at the photo his father was now holding of Oliver. "So I shouted to her and ran up to give her a hug because we were going to go on our trip and I was gonna miss her, but her boyfriend said I shouldn't hug her because she was sick."

The boy stopped the story again to pull a crumpled piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles and stickers out of his pocket. "Is she still sick, Dad? I mad her a Feel Better card in Art." He proudly tried to flatten the paper out and showed it to his dad.

Booth felt tears prick his eyes as he slowly pulled the card out of Parker's hand. It was the traditional little kid Get Well card – everyone holding hands, lots of hearts, a big yellow sun in the top corner. Booth's eyes fell to the drawing of Parker standing between both himself and Bones, holding their hands. Opening it up, Booth choked up seeing the rudimentary sketch of a skeleton with a big red heart on its chest.

"I tried to draw a skeleton, but with a heart, because you two always argue about bones and hearts," Parker explained. "And brains, but I can't draw that. When can I give it to her?"

"Soon, buddy. And I know she'll love it," Booth said, clearing his throat and carefully setting the card on the table. "But I need to know what else happened."

"Oh, right. Well, her boyfriend said she was sick so I shouldn't hug her, but he would tell her I said hello. She looked really sick – I think she was asleep or something. She was leaning on his shoulder with her eyes shut and he was helping her walk. So I asked him who he was – because maybe Bones shouldn't talk to strangers either - and he said he was her boyfriend. Then Bones woke up for a second and said something and he got mad and said he needed to take her home quickly and started walking a lot faster." Parker took a deep breath, finishing his story.

Booth nodded, anxious. "Did you see them get into a car?"

His son furrowed his brow in concentration. "I think so. It was blue, I think. It was a tiny car, though, not like the big one you have." He giggled. "It had a really funny sticker on the back with banana on it but spelled wrong!"

Booth looked a his son in confusion, then realized what he was talking about. He quickly grabbed a pen and paper off the table and wrote 'Brennanite' on it and showed it to Parker. "Was it this word?"

Parker nodded, "Yeah! What does it mean?"

The agent grimaced as he yanked out his cell phone, "It means that _you_, little man," he tousled Parker's hair as he quickly dialed McKnowles' number, "Are the best junior special agent I've ever met."

Parker grinned proudly as he stole the now forgotten Wii remote out of his dad's hand in victory.

"John? Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm off the case, but we gotta pull Oliver back in, NOW. We got an eyewitness who places him with Bones the day she was tak-" Booth cut off mid-word, glancing at Parker, and quickly revised his word choice, "Uh, last Friday evening. Witness says they got in his car and left together and she looked drugged."

"Well, that's great, Booth, we'll call him in," John said, happy to hear his colleague in a positive mood for a change. "But who's this eyewitness of yours? You're not technically even supposed to be involved at this point, you know…" McKnowles lowered his voice as he continued, "I could definitely get fired for even keeping you in the loop."

Booth rolled his eyes, "John, that's bureaucratic nonsense. We have a witness placing him with Bones – PROOF he's been lying to us, dammit!" The agent quickly looked at his son who was by the point too absorbed in Wii baseball to be listening. "Listen, just get me back on the case – I'll keep my head in the game, I swear. I just need 5 minutes alone with him in the interrogation room and I'll find out where she is, John, I know it. I know it! I know when people are lying, I _know _I can do this and I _know_ we'll find her."

"Fine, Seeley," John said disparagingly. "Geez, enough with the begging, man. I can't get you in the room with him, especially not alone – you did put the man in the hospital overnight, you know – but I can just arrange for the two of you to happen to be in the same room at the same time."

Booth squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, trying to slow his breathing. "Ok, that's great. Thanks a lot. Now _I _owe _you_ one."

McKnowles chuckled on the other end of the line, signing off with a, "Be at the lab around 5 this afternoon. And Booth, I need to you to be _CHILL _with the guy. Better yet, don't say anything at all. He used to be intimidated; now he's just damn terrified of you. Get that Sweets kid to tag along – I think if we give Oliver the chance to actually visit his idol's office we might just get him to reveal everything we need to hear."

* * * * * *

"Angela! Can you turn me into a polar bear this time?!" An excited Parker Booth sped straight down the lab's hall, nearly crashing into the very surprised artist who had emerged from her office at hearing her name.

Angela glanced down at Parker and up and Booth questioningly, "Hey, Parker!" She said, smiling in his direction and leaning down as she directed a quiet question toward Booth, "You back on the case?"

Booth nodded, shoving his hands in his pocket to keep himself from checking his watch for the 3rd time in 30 seconds. "Yup, well, no. Not really. Just temporarily, but not really. Listen, just coulda watch Parker for like 15 minutes and not tell anyone you saw me here? Paint him with whatever super indelible paints and inks ya got in there, just go crazy."

"POLAR BEAR!" Parker's voice echoed across the lab, loudly declaring his new facepaint desire.

The artist nodded, smiling down at the boy who had been eagerly jumping up and down in anticipation. "Well, I know I'm good, but that's gonna be _hard_ to paint on your face… Good thing I like a challenge," she arched an eyebrow, grabbing one of Parker's hands and leading him into his office.

Hodgins approached Booth as he continued to pace. "So, what's going on, man? And thanks for bringing Parker to hang with Angela. She's needed something to make her smile lately."

Booth cut him off with a wave of his hand, "Hodgins, did Bones order any take-out Friday night before she left? Did she go out to eat anything? Did anyone bring her any food?"

Hodgins slowly shook his head no, wondering where Booth was going with this. "You know Dr. Brennan, she doesn't eat when she's in the middle of a case. Especially if it's late and _especially_ when you're not around to remind her. I swear, if you didn't force her to go to the diner she'd live in that office for the rest of her life, her muscles slowly deteriorating from lack of fresh oxygen to the blood stream, fat cells quickly being absorbed by the body due to lack of replenishments."

Booth frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Hodgins, critically, prompting the squint to speak normally.

"Uh, I mean, no. NO she didn't. What I'm saying is she would starve during cases if you didn't remind her to eat, you know that," Hodgins amended. "She did have interns delivering her coffee nearly every hour on the hour," he finished. "Why?"

The agent scratched the back of his head, "I think she was drugged before she even left the building."

Hodgins' eyes widened as he rubbed his beard in thought. "Gotta be the coffee then, man. Unless she snuck some food in there somewhere, but I really don't think that's likely."

Booth nodded again, glancing quickly at his watch in growing frustration. He was about to pull out his phone to call John and ask what the hold up was when he saw the agent walking towards him, a hand-cuffed Oliver in tow.

"Alright! Everybody out!" Booth shouted, whistling with his fingers to get the various interns milling about the lab to clear out. Although the door to Bones' office would be closed when they questioned Oliver, he didn't want to run the risk of anyone witnessing him interact with the guy.

Hodgins looked questioningly at Booth, who nodded reluctantly. "You too, man. Just need to protect everyone's jobs in case the FBI comes a-callin… Technically, what we're doing here – me even setting foot in the same room with him – is illegal. I can't risk you getting fired for being witness to that and not stopping me."

Jack nodded, "I understand man, I'll go teach Parker about some new bugs he can bring home and hide in your bed."

Booth shot him an aggravated look, "Yeah, thanks, but I think he still remembers his first lesson pretty well."

Hodgins started walking down the hall to Angela's office, chuckling, turning only briefly to wish Booth good luck. Zac and Vincent, who had been watching the scene unfold from the platform, took this as their cue to join Hodgins and began moving towards Angela's office.

"Whoa, whoa, Zac!" Booth jogged the few feet over to the anthropologist and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards Bones' office, where Oliver and John had just been joined by Sweets. "You, super squint, are coming with me."

"Why? I have no logical connection to this investigation. In fact, I was incarcerated at the time the actual time was committed," he stated plainly.

Booth nodded, not letting go of his arm as he pulled them through the door. "It's still _being_ committed," he corrected quickly. "And you are coming with us because Sweets said you should. Something about you being the boy version of Bones, although I disagree."

Zac nodded, "While I admit I regrettably do not yet have the hours of sheer work experience as Dr. Brennan, we do have nearly identical skill sets. And although I do not know her I.Q., I have reason to believe mine is slightly higher because I have heard her brag about my intelligence on many occasions, which she only does for people she considers equals or even superiors."

The anthropologist stopped his lecture long enough to recognize the man sitting on Bones' couch in handcuffs. "Agent Booth… Why is it that the others may be offered the opportunity of not being witnesses to this scenario while I have been drug into the middle of it?"

Booth pat him on the shoulder with an open palm, as Bones had once instructed him to do to instill confidence in the young man. "Because if they find out you knew this was going down, what's the worst they can do?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, leaning towards Zac's ear as he glanced at Sweets. "Call you crazy?" He asked with a smile. He knew he shouldn't but he just couldn't resist.

Both Sweets and Zac gave him immediate disapproving looks, but the agent had already moved on to the target at hand and was intensively studying Oliver, who seemed to be enthralled by Brennan's office.

"Is this really where she… Does she ever sleep on this… Are these her…" Oliver asked, beginning numerous questions as he quickly got up and wandered around the office, running his hands over everything he saw. "Oh, her jacket smells just like her," he said, pausing his exploration briefly to burry his nose in the jacket hanging off the corner of a bookshelf.

Booth moved to pull him away from Bones' jacket – this was just downright _creepy_ – but Sweets shook his head, calling him off from disturbing Oliver's journey.

The stalker slowly, almost reverently, approached Bones' desk and walked behind it, gazing carefully at the few knick knacks the scientist had accumulated over the years. As he reached out and carefully picked up the "What Happens in Vegas" coffee mug Booth had jokingly bought her during their brief stint as Tony and Roxie, a phrase that took even more meaning considering their experience, it took all Booth's self control not to yell at Oliver to quit touching everything.

Finally deciding that while it made him sick to his stomach to see the stalker touching all of Bones' personal possessions, he probably wouldn't do any real damage, Booth nonchalantly strolled over to Sweets who was critically analyzing every move Oliver made.

"Well?" Booth prompted.

"He's never been in this office before," Sweets whispered confidently, never tearing his eyes away from their target who was currently tracing his hand lovingly over loose pages from Brennan's latest book, riddled with handwritten notes in red by the author herself.

"He treats this place like a sanctuary. If he had been here before he would have paused to acknowledge it's importance, but he wouldn't be worshipping the space itself like this," the psychologist continued. "Listen, Booth, I know Parker said he saw them together, but I remain firm in my conclusion. This man could _not_ have hurt Dr. Brennan."

Booth sighed in frustration, nodding at Agent McKnowles who had been waiting patiently on the sidelines for his cue. At Booth's signal, he slipped a photograph in the middle of Brennan's desk while Oliver's back was turned.

"Did you – did you _marry_ Temperance, Agent Booth?" Oliver's voice rang out incredulously, his back still turned away from his audience as he intently studied a picture framed on Brennan's wall.

Three pairs of eyes snapped immediately on Booth, who was studiously examining a spot in the carpet by his feet. He knew what Oliver was looking at. He had snuck into Bones' office one April Fool's and hung it on her wall in mischievous anticipation of what was sure to be her very negative, very _loud_ reaction. To his complete surprise – and secret thrill – she had liked the picture so much she had decided to keep it up.

Oliver turned around, holding a frame containing a photo of Booth and Brennan dressed as Tony and Roxie, huddled beneath The Little Wedding Chapel marquee in Vegas. Roxie was looking seductively into the camera with an eyebrow arched as Tony was pulling her close, both eyes shut as he pressed a kiss into her cheek. 'Happy One Year Anniversary, Babe! XOXO, Tony the Tiger' was scrawled on the bottom of the photo in Sharpie, which had been the part of the gag present Booth had been sure would push Bones off the deep end with embarrassment. Instead, she had reasonably told him that was her favorite photo of them ever taken and she wanted it showcased.

"Booth?" Sweets harsh whisper tore Booth from his happy memory, forcing him to look up and wave off the picture.

"Uh, no, no… Uh, nope." He cleared his throat, trying to figure out the best way to explain to his psychologist, his FBI buddy, and a certified lunatic, that while Bones was betting on the cards, he had been betting with her that by the end of the trip Tony would convince Roxie to finally tie the knot. After much coercing and promises of life debts and a guarantee of no more bugging her about his suspicions that he was Andy Lister, he had finally gotten a picture in front of the chapel. But that was as far as it went.

"Oh, God!" Oliver's cry saved Booth from a very awkward conversation as they all instantly crowded around Brennan's desk, where Oliver had finally seen the photo of the battered Dr. Brennan that Agent McKnowles had slipped there.

"When did you do this to her, Oliver?" Booth asked very quietly, very gently. His hands itched for a second go-round with this loser, but McKnowles shot him a warning look to be gentle. _Fine_, Booth thought to himself. _I'll be gentle for now… But the moment he confesses…_

"Me? You think _I_ did this to her?!?" Oliver cried incredulously, standing quickly and backing away from the desk, into the wall, dropping the photo on the way.

"I would never, _ever_, hurt Temperance, Agent Booth. Ever! He…." Oliver started shaking, staring at the gruesome photo on the floor. "He wasn't supposed to…"

Sweets stepped forward, "Who, Oliver? Who wasn't supposed to?"

"He wasn't… supposed to hurt her," the stalker finally said, sliding down the wall and sitting huddled on the floor.

_**A/N 2: I really wanted to show lil' man Parker Booth getting all alpha male protective of Bones, but I couldn't figure out a way to emphasize that while still making the scene flow. So I just put in the line about "maybe shouldn't talk to strangers, either." But still… Say it with me: Awwwww!!!**_


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

For a moment, Oliver's muffled cries were the only sound in the room. Zac, John, and Sweets all exchanged looks while Booth stared intently at Oliver, approaching the man who had backed himself into a corner on the floor very slowly, crouching down to reach his level.

"Hey, Oliver, hey, listen, man," he said calmly and slowly, carefully reaching a hand out to touch the man's trembling arm. "I need to know _who_ hurt her if it wasn't you."

Oliver quickly jerked away from Booth's touch, tears instantly ceasing as he went straight from grief to fear.

"Don't touch me! I told you, I didn't hurt her! He said he wouldn't hurt her! And I CAN'T TELL YOU, he never told me his name." He insisted, putting his hands up in front of his face in surrender.

Booth nodded understandingly, "I got it, Oliver. I got it. But as you can see from this picture," he slid the picture back directly in Oliver's line of vision. "He did. He hurt her a _lot_, Oliver." The agent closed his eyes and took a deep breath for to steady himself before continuing. "He did _that_ to Dr. Temperance Brennan. The woman you love. The women you'd do anything for, right Oliver?"

Oliver nodded as Booth continued. "Now. You're telling me that you're letting a measly little threat made by the madman who did this to _your_ woman keep you from turning him in? Hell, what would a guy in your situation in one of Dr. Brennan's books do?"

The stalker's eyes sparkled as he saw a new way in which to place himself in one of his idol's books. "He would work with the authorities to catch the bad guy." Midway through his thought, Oliver's suddenly enthusiastic face suddenly dropped, crestfallen. "Although, it doesn't really matter what _I _do, at the end of the chapter _you're _always the one who winds up going home with her."

It was all Booth could do to keep himself from spinning around and wiping the grin off Sweets' face as he heard the psychologist react with a hearty laugh. "Ignore him, man. No matter what you think, _I'm_ not Andy Lister," he insisted, lying through his teeth to calm Oliver down. "Dr. Brennan has made that perfectly clear to me."

Oliver appeared confused, "But you've appeared in interviews with her, stating that you believe you _are_ Agent Lister."

Booth cursed himself silently, forgetting that Oliver had likely memorized every single one of Bones' interviews. "Well, that's because I really wanted to be. You and I, Oliver, you and I have something in common… We both love Dr. Brennan, even though she'll never see us the same way."

Oliver nodded, jumping in, "She's so blind! It's like she doesn't see what's right in front of her!"

Booth laughed, easily continuing, "Try working with her for 5 years, every day, being madly in love with her, and her not figuring it out at all. Man, you know you've got it bad when you realize the most beautiful thing you've ever seen is a woman wearing a one-piece jumper at crime scenes, elbow-deep in human remains."

Oliver appeared to have completely relaxed by now and took Booth's offered hand to stand. "Now, Oliver. Can you help us identify the man who did this so we can go get Dr. Brennan back?" He said enthusiastically, handing the man over to Agent McKnowles. Oliver nodded, going willingly to start the process of interrogation with John.

As the group began to file out the office, Sweets approached Booth with a thrilled, 'I win!' grin on his face. "Agent Booth, that was amazing. How you were able to just connect to him like that… Where in the world did you get the idea to go in that direction?"

Booth narrowed his eyes, "First off, stop acting like you had something to do with what just went down here."

Sweets looked at him, confused, "But… I _did_. I was the one who pointed out he hadn't been here, therefore whoever laid out the Bones and planted the will had to be a second party, a partner."

Rolling his eyes, Booth ignored him and continued to answer the psychologist's original question. "I asked myself what would Bones do. And I know that in this situation she would ask _me_ what to do, and I'd give her some speech about using her heart instead of her head. So I did that," Booth answered, shrugging easily. The fact that all of these men now knew the depth of his feelings for his partner barely registered as he saw Cam approaching.

"But you didn't even hit him? Not once? That shows impressive restraint, Agent Booth, especially given your previous altercation," Sweets continued.

Turning to face him, Booth tried to shut the psychologist up before Cam was within hearing range. "Listen, I already beat the guy up once. Figured I'd save the energy for killing the guy who actually did all this to her," he finished.

At that, Booth whirled back around, heading to the parking garage so he could follow Agent McKnowles to the FBI building and watch the interrogation. Unfortunately, Cam had already heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Seeley!" She shouted after him as he hurried toward to the garage, "Are you looking for revenge or justice?"

Booth rolled his eyes as he opened the door, "Don't call me Seeley!" He responded, purposely avoiding the question.

* * * * * *

Booth's sweet-talking had gotten Oliver eager to open up when Agent McKnowles pressed him for details. According to the stalker, he had been at The Founding Fathers bar one night several weeks ago, enjoying a beer by himself as he watched Brennan and Booth talk quietly together at the bar. Apparently this was a tradition of his, as he considered it his personal responsibility to keep an eye on his favorite author.

It made Booth physically ill as the interrogation continued and Oliver described in detail all the intimate moments he had witnessed between the partners over the past several months – he was beginning to realize just how much time this sicko spent following Bones around. And he didn't miss a _thing_, as Oliver had been able to quite accurately describe numerous situations in with Booth and Bones had been out together – lunch at the diner, drinks at the bar, grabbing bagels from a sidewalk vendor for breakfast, even going to the movies or plays together. If they had held hands for a moment as Booth tried to hurry her across the street before the light changed, Oliver noticed it. If Bones paused her meal to lean forward and adjust his shirt collar so it didn't stick out of his jacket, Oliver noticed. That one time after a case closed a few weeks ago when they had left the bar in high spirits and it had _just_ begun to snow, creating such a romantic atmosphere that Booth got the closest he'd ever gotten to actually initiating a kiss… Oliver noticed. And described the moments with such jealousy that it made the minute details even more significant, causing his co-worker's eyebrows to raise in amusement.

While it occurred to Booth halfway through the interrogation that his personal relationship with Bones was now getting broadcasted across _both_ their workplaces, he didn't care. If anything, it just made him more frustrated because now his fellow agents were figuring out how to cash-in on their will they/won't they bets instead of focusing on finding her captor.

Shaking off the creepy unexpected loss of privacy in his life, Booth focused on the part of Oliver's interrogation that mattered. He said he had been at the Founding Fathers when he was approached by a man who said he had noticed Oliver's interest in Dr. Brennan and said he could set them up on a date. Oliver said he had immediately rejected that idea, telling the man he would knew that could never happen because her partner would never allow it.

Agent McKnowles leaned forward, "Oliver, after you told the man you knew Agent Booth wouldn't allow you to be alone with Dr. Brennan, what was his reaction?"

Oliver had glanced at the mirror on the wall nervously, knowing that Agent Booth was likely standing behind it, watching the entire interview. "He said he knew a way I could get a date with Temperance and pay Agent Booth back for being so rude to me all the time. He said he wanted to help me."

John nodded, prodding him, "And did he?"

Oliver nodded, "Yes. He told me about an upcoming Friday – last Friday – when he knew Agent Booth would be out of town and Dr. Brennan would be working late." At this, Agent McKnowles eyes widened and he looked straight into the mirror, causing Sweets to nod beside Booth and lean into the mike.

"Ask him if the man referred to Dr. Brennan as Temperance, Brennan, or Bones," Sweets suggested, causing the agent in the room to nod as the psychologist's voice echoed in his ear.

"How exactly did he put it, Oliver? Can you try to remember exactly what he said?" He prompted.

"Uh.. I think so," Oliver said, hesitantly. "I think he said something like, 'In a few weeks, Agent Booth will be out of town with his kid and Dr. Brennan will be working late'… He said something about how Temperance always works late on Fridays."

John nodded again, "OK, go on."

"So… I know… I know Temperance has never seen me as a real candidate for a boyfriend, and with that partner of hers hovering over her at every moment, she never would. So I figured that this was my one chance to get my date with Temperance, and make Agent Booth a little angry in the process. I deserve my chance, right?" Oliver asked, trying to justify his actions. "I was just showing them I deserved my fair shot with her."

At Agent McKnowles' encouraging prompt, "Did you ever get that date?" Oliver continued.

"Yes, I did. The guy said I just had to call Temperance's office late Friday night and tell her I was with the FBI and her partner had been hurt. I was supposed to tell her to meet me in the parking garage and I would drive her to the scene. He said he would make sure she was out of it enough that by the time she saw me and I told her that Agent Booth was ok, she would be so relieved she would go on our date," he concluded, smiling.

"And it worked! I called her and she sounded really, really tired already, so by the time she saw me in the parking garage, I don't know that she even recognized me. She was about to pass out, so I led her to my car to take her home so she could sleep a little before we went out," he finished.

The agent leaned forward, "Oliver, did Dr. Brennan say anything to you?"

Oliver frowned, concentrating, "No, I don't think so. Well, on our way to the car, we saw Agent Booth's kid, and I think Temperance recognized his voice or something because she tried to say something to him, but I don't think he heard her." His frown deepened as he tried to remember, "I think she said something about 'Don't drink the coffee,' but that didn't make any sense."

A light went off in Booth's head, "The coffee." He said confidently, flipping open his cell phone and barking order to Hodgins that the lab test the Bones' 'What Happens in Vegas' coffee mug. "He drugged her coffee."

Clapping a hand on Sweets' shoulder as he rushed out of the observation room, Booth ordered, "You get _every detail_ out of him that you can. And don't you _dare_ sugarcoat it when you tell me the story later, you got that?" He ordered as he jogged out and toward his car, rushing toward the lab.

The coffee. If her coffee was drugged, that meant someone had to have access to her coffee. Which meant her captor, that man Oliver had met at the bar, had been in the lab Friday.

As Booth slid behind the wheel and flipped on his lights, his phone lit up. "Booth," he barked quickly, pulling out onto the road. When he was met with silence, he glanced at the Caller ID. "Hello? Anyone there?" An office number from the Jeffersonian was listed on his screen. Groaning in frustration, he flipped the phone shut and slid it into his pocket. That was the third prank call in as many days. He wished everyone would just let him focus on the case…

* * * * * *

"You were right, Booth!" Hodgins' voice run out across the lab as Booth rushed up the platform, remembering to swipe in just in time.

Jack held up the mug, "Traces of a mild sedative in her coffee," he said grimly. "Someone had to be in the lab to plant that," he continued, coming to the same conclusion Booth had reached.

As the two men continued their conversation in which Hodgins began detailing the different forms ways this particular sedative could be obtained, Zac's head shot up from his desk at the corner of the platform and he walked directly toward Booth, halting only a few inches from his face.

"Whoa, Zac, wanna back up there a bit, buddy?" Booth asked, pushing the anthropologist away. While he appreciated his brain, the kid sure could use a bit more practice in social settings.

"Agent Booth, I think your son was asking for you earlier. Please come with me to Angela's office." With that, Zac swiftly headed down the platform, leaving a very confused Hodgins and Booth exchanging looks of consternation. 

Zac sensed they weren't following, so he turned and spoke to Hodgins this time, "Hodgins, I also believe Angela was asking for you. Please join me in her office. Now."

Zac spun back around and continued walking toward the artist's office, leaving Booth and Hodgins no option but to follow.

"Daddy!" Parker cried out when he saw his dad, rushing into Booth's arms. "I'm a polar bear! Rawr!"

Booth chuckled, studying his son's face, which had been transformed quite convincingly into a polar bear. He let out a low whistle, "I must say, Angela, I am impressed. I didn't think you were gonna be able to pull this off."

The artist laughed at the compliment, "Well, thanks. But I had some help." She motioned to Cam, who was perched on a stool in the corner of her office. "Cam kept him distracted with some books while I looked up some images online so I could figure out exactly how to map out the image of a polar bear on a human face. It wasn't very eas-" She was cut off when Zac slammed the door behind them and locked it ominously.

"Hodgins, Agent Booth, I am very sorry to have lied to you to get you into Angela's office, but I felt that was the best way to handle this situation. The platform is far too exposed for this conversation, and I felt we needed some privacy," he started, looking at Booth for forgiveness.

"Zac, what the heck are you talking about?" Booth asked, remembering to sensor himself as he glanced at his son, who had gone back to munching on snacks Cam had prepared for him.

The anthropologist took a deep breath and rubbed his gloved hands together. "I believe I have determined something critical about Dr. Brennan's capture. I overheard Agent Booth telling Dr. Sweets in Dr. Brennan's office that when he approached Oliver in a kind manner, he had done so because he asked himself how Dr. Brennan would have approached the situation. So I felt that as the most uninvolved party here, given my current residence at the mental institution and disassociation with the Jeffersonian, I reexamined the evidence in an attempt to also put myself in Dr. Brennan's shoes. And I know that Dr. Brennan would have asked me to reexamine the evidence for anything she missed, so I triple-checked everyone's findings."

He took another breath before resuming, "I have pinpointed a few anomalies in our kidnapper's strategy. I do not understand what they mean, and while I am reticent to rely on any contributions from Dr. Sweets or the soft sciences, I'm afraid I must pass my observations on to him to form a proper conclusion… It would appear that Dr. Brennan's captor made every effort to conceal the fact that she was alive. He left the skeleton, he poisoned her coffee, he left photographs of her beaten body," Booth winced, glancing at Parker who was now paying close attention to the conversation, wide-eyed, "He created a fake grave for her, he took out an obituary for her. All of these things indicate she was in fact deceased."

Booth nodded, "Zac, Oliver didn't do anything to Bones. He was with her Friday night, but Sweets seems convinced he couldn't hurt her. I think he was with her Friday then whatever happened next he wasn't involved with. Sweets just called to tell me that Oliver made the phone call into the radio station and making it sound like she was speaking only _after_ the guy who actually hurt Bones called him and told him to."

Zac nodded, excitedly. "Exactly! See?"

Everyone in the office exchanged confused looks. Dr. Nigel Murray spoke for them collectively, "Uh… No, Dr. Addy. I'm afraid we don't."

"Well, that's my point!" Zac continued, jumping ahead of himself. "If Oliver took Dr. Brennan, who had been drugged into a compliant state by his unnamed accomplice Friday night, then whatever damage she sustained was likely over the course of the weekend. And since Sweets believes Oliver is incapable of violence toward Dr. Brennan, then it must have been the accomplice who hurt her, possibly killed or is still incarcerating her, and went to all the trouble of setting up these many distractions."

"Daddy?" Parker asked quietly, his eyes filling with tears. He had been really confused up until he heard 'killed her.' Now he was just very upset.

Angela, seeing the look on Booth's face so perfectly mirroring Parker's, quickly grabbed the child and sat him on her lap, wrapping him in her arms and whispering soothing words into his ear. "It's ok, Parker, it's ok."

Zac, unphased by the interruption, continued. "So the logical conclusion is that the captor truly wanted us to believe that Dr. Brennan was in fact deceased. But then he ordered Oliver call the radio station, a move that led us to believe that she was alive. _Why_ would he switch his game plan when we were all," he paused, glancing at Booth, "Well, _almost _all," he amended, "convinced she was dead? If he hadn't had Oliver call the station, we would have likely declared her dead by now and the investigation wouldn't still be continuing in such earnest."

Angela spoke up as Parker played with the beads on her bracelet, "Well, we knew she wasn't, uh," she looked at Parker and paused, "Uh… _translated_, if you will, when we heard the radio phone call, remember? Sweets had just shown us the will and we had been talking about how he wouldn't _translate_ her for like 30 minutes before Cam came in and turned on the radio."

Zac nodded triumphantly, "Exactly!" He crowed. When everyone else still looked clueless, he sighed. It was really difficult being a genius sometimes. "He switched his game plan from making us think she was translated – which I assume is some sort of code word Angela is using in favor of murdered, considering Agent Booth's son's presence – into just strictly taunting Agent Booth for not finding her only _after_ we already knew she wasn't murde… Translated."

Everyone's eyes began to widen as it dawned on them what Zac was saying. "You mean-" Cam started, and Zac nodded.

"Yes. The captor somehow heard what was being said on the platform. Perhaps he's set up some sort of bug," he suggested.

"No." Booth said so certainly that all eyes went to him, alarmed. "That was the first thing the FBI did when she went missing – swept the room. There are no bugs up there, no radio signals emitting from the room… Which means whoever took Bones had to have heard our conversation in person."

He kept his gaze unfocused at one of the art pieces hanging on Angela's wall as he pieced everything together: the skeleton that was mostly in the right order, but oh-so-conveniently meant to look incorrect, the access to Bones' coffee, the personal knowledge of Booth and Bones' work schedules… it all made sense now. "Whoever took Bones works at the lab."


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Daddy? Is Bones ok?" Parker's trembling voice broke through the long silence that had settled across Angela's office after Booth's last statement.

Angela squeezed him tighter, anticipating Booth's reaction, but to her surprise the agent walked over and picked Parker up, thanking the artist with the smile. "We don't know where she is right now, buddy," he said grimly, heartbroken to see his son so devastated. "But we're doing everything we can to find her, ok?"

Parker nodded, tears filling his eyes, "Do you need my help? Because you said I was a good junior agent." Booth had to sternly remind himself that the eyes of basically everyone he knew were currently on him and therefore he _would not_ cry.

Just then, Sweets slipped into the office quietly and shut the door, having left Agent McKnowles with Oliver back at the FBI building.

"I'll let you know the second we need you, ok buddy?" He said, ruffling Parker's hair.

The boys sniffed and tucked his face into Booth's shoulder. "I miss Bones, Daddy. She's your favorite." Booth nodded, squeezing his son close.

"Yup. Well, she's tied with you, little man," he said, trying to get his son to smile.

Booth looked up at the faces studying him and directed his attention to Sweets, shifting Parker's weight from one arm to the other. "Well, Sweets, who is it? And I don't want this to be like last time, with the answer being under our noses the whole time and not a single one of us expecting it."

Vincent raised his hand slightly, confused, "What last time? There was another criminal in the lab that you didn't expect?"

Hodgins cleared his throat in discomfort right as Zac raised his hand nonchalantly, claiming ownership of the 'criminal' title.

Booth arched his eyebrow and nodded again at Sweets, waiting for him to name someone in the lab.

"Well," the psychologist looked around, taking in the crowd, "I feel confident stating it's no one in this room. Well, I suppose after last time, I shouldn't feel confident with _anything_, but this is a different situation in that while the victims of the case Zac was directly involved with were members of secret societies, this time, the victim is Dr. Brennan. I don't believe anyone here would desire to cause her harm."

Everyone in the room anxiously nodded as Hodgins quietly stepped closer to Angela and wrapped a tight arm around her for support. Booth held Parker even tighter, the memory of seeing Bones' soaked bed sheets for the first time flashing through his mind.

"You missed the second half of the interrogation, Agent Booth, in which Oliver was able to give us a rough timeline," Sweets said. "It seems that Friday evening he escorted a very drugged Dr. Brennan back to her house and had what he's referring to as a 'date.'"

Booth bristled, every nerve in his body freezing at what Sweets may be implying. "Ow, Dad, you're hurting me!" His son protested loudly, using his fists to push away from his father.

The agent loosened his grip slightly but remained focused on Sweets, "Sweets… Define _date_."

The psychologist's eyes widened as he realized that Booth had assumed the worst, "Oh no! No, no, I didn't mean _that_ kind of a date, I mean that he, in his delusional state in which he truly believes that Dr. Brennan is his girlfriend, actually made Dr. Brennan dinner at her home, sat at the table with her as they ate, tucked her into bed, and kissed her good night before leaving that evening. All while she was incredibly drugged and likely half asleep."

Booth put Parker down, wishing for the first time in his son's life that he was with Rebecca. Parker loved Bones and this couldn't be good for the kid to hear.

"That's…. creepy," Angela said, speaking for everyone in the room.

Sweets nodded, "Yes, it is. Very creepy. But, considering Oliver is under the delusion that he has a chance with Dr. Brennan, he wanted to, and I'm quoting here, 'treat her like a lady.' So, suffice it to say that between late Friday evening when Oliver left Dr. Brennan's house where she had begun to sleep off the effects of the drug and this week when he called in the radio station, Oliver had no contact with Dr. Brennan. For all he knew, she was thinking about him all weekend and about the wonderful date they shared."

Turning to Angela, Sweets said, "Agent McKnowles is going to bring Oliver in here pretty soon so he can describe the man to you, but if the guy does actually work in the lab, I'm starting to think maybe you should go to him instead."

Hodgins and Angela nodded together. "I'll take her over right now," Hodgins volunteered, grabbing Angela's jacket off the rack as the artist starting collecting drawing supplies. "The sooner we get a picture of this guy the sooner we find Dr. Brennan."

Booth nodded in thanks as the two left in a hurry, then looked at Sweets. "It had to be someone who got her coffee, had full access to the lab, worked closely enough with Bones to know her – and my – schedule, and could get his hands on a skeleton," he supplied.

"Right," Sweets nodded. "Who would have access to all of that?"

"Uh…." An even more on-edge than usual Mr. Nigel Murray stepped forward, slowly raising his hand again. "I would. Well, any of us would, actually. And by 'us,' I mean interns. I'm fortunate in that I was one of the few interns Dr. Brennan has actually selected to personally assist her, but there are many interns still slaving away in the lab every day who never get to come out here and see a piece of the action, if you will."

Zac nodded, remembering his own experience. "It can be very cut-throat for the interns. Unless you're incredibly intelligent – even more intelligent than an already highly gifted group of graduate students – Dr. Brennan doesn't even learn your name."

Vincent smiled, proud to be momentarily recognized as one of those few interns whose name Dr. Brennan did recognize. "Yes, well, many of the interns who work here are either unpaid or are making quite meager wages. Perhaps money was a motivation?" He suggested.

Booth shook his head rejecting the idea, "Naw, there hasn't been any ransom or any other demands for that matter."

"No, this was personal," Sweets spoke up. "Think back to what I said earlier Agent Booth, that got you thinking about Oliver. We were discussing someone who was personally angry although simultaneously enamored with Dr. Brennan and also very jealous of or angry at you. Before we applied it to the Brennanite community but now let's apply it to the interns. Can you recall a situation in which you were involved in a heated argument with one of Dr. Brennan's interns? Or have you ever witness such an altercation between Dr. Brennan herself and an intern?"

Booth let a slow sigh escape from his lips as he stared at the ceiling in concentration, "Ahhh… Nothing comes to mind at the moment." He rubbed the back of his head, "Sweets, I'm sick of thinking, I just want to _find her_, dammit!" He shouted the last half of his sentence as he kicked the wall.

Just then his phone rang and he snapped it open, automatically answering. "Booth," he said, glancing at Parker who was staring at him, wide-eyed, for cursing. Booth sighed – one more thing to make sure he didn't tell his mother about. After a couple moments of silence, Booth checked the caller ID to see the same Jeffersonian number that had been calling him. "Ok, seriously? Whoever this is either SPEAK UP, or stop calling me, alright? I've got a _lot_ going on right now!" He said, snapping the phone shut and slipping it back into his pocket.

"I don't know, Sweets, if it's an intern to be honest I've probably offended all of them at one point or another," Booth resumed. "If you think it's bad that Bones never learns their names, I don't even bother looking at them. Ask Zac or… Vincent… Whatever your name is. See?! Perfect example!"

Sweets' eyebrows were crinkled as he leaned forward inquisitively, "Booth? Who was that on the phone?"

Booth raised his eyebrows and shrugged, surprised the psychologist had brought it up. "I dunno. Some wise-ass… I mean, smart aleck," he looked at Parker again who still appeared to be memorizing every word his dad said, "Has been calling me and just not saying anything, so I hang up."

"Huh… And how long has this been going on?" Sweets prompted.

Booth shrugged again, "Maybe a week or so. They've called me a couple times now, but the number originates from somewhere in the Jeffersonian, so I always figured it was someone dialing the wrong number or prank calling me to annoy me or something."

Sweets stared at him in open astonishment. "What?!" Booth asked, confused why this was apparently such a big deal.

"You've been getting silent phone calls ever since Brennan went missing from an office in the Jeffersonian, which is where we just determined the captor, who has a personal vendetta against _you_, is currently employed, and you don't think this is _important_?" He asked, flabbergasted.

Booth paled, "Do you think it's him? Taunting me? Trying to annoy me to the point of insanity or something?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out," Sweets said.

At this, Zac stepped forward and extended his hand. "May I?" He asked, pulling the cell phone from Booth's hand and walking toward Angela's computer. "There are nearly one hundred offices in this building, and given the current economic state and the employee size at the time of my employment, I'd say at least a dozen of them are empty," Zac said, pulling up the blueprints for the building on the computer and comparing the office numbers to the number on Booth's phone.

As he did this, Booth used Angela's desk phone to call Agent McKnowles and update him on their findings and get him to bring some backup along when they determined which office was the origination of these prank calls.

"There!" Zac's voice rang out, pointing triumphantly to the screen, indicating an office on the basement level of the Jeffersonian that had been empty for nearly 3 months. Booth quickly relayed the information to McKnowles who instructed him to stay put until backup got there.

Of course, Booth had every intention of ignoring _that_ advise just as he did the first time around, so he quickly checked his gun, grabbed his cell phone from Zac and stuck it back in his pocket and crouched down to eye-level with his son.

"Parker?" He prodded, getting the boy's attention. Booth looked his son straight in the eyes, "Listen, buddy, remember how I said I would tell you when we needed your help?" Parker nodded, "Well, I need it now, ok? It's very, _very_ important that you stay in this office with Cam, ok? Do NOT leave this room until she tells you it's ok or until I come back. Do you understand me, Parker?"

His son seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and leaned forward to wrap his arms tightly around his Booth's neck. "I love you, Daddy. Tell Bones I love her too."

Booth nodded, willing himself to be strong in front of his son. "I love you too, little man. I'll tell her as soon as I see her." He kissed his son on the top of his head then loosened his grip, passing Parker onto Cam.

"Cam, I really need you to stay here and keep him safe. Lock all the doors, hide him under the desk if you need to, just don't let anyone get near him," he said under his breath. "If this guy is making it personal and he finds out we've already linked him to Bones' disappearance, there's nothing to say he won't go after my son."

Cam nodded, tight-lipped. "Be careful, Booth," she said quietly as the man gave his son one final look and slipped out of Angela's office and hurried to the stairs.

* * * * * *

It was just down the hall on the right, Booth reminded himself as he quietly opened the door from the stairs onto the basement level, pulling his gun out and releasing the safety. He stepped lightly toward the office Zac had indicated, mentally preparing himself to duck when the captor shot at him as soon as Booth kicked down the door.

Pausing directly in front of the door, Booth took a deep breath and reminded himself that no matter what issue this intern had with him, it didn't matter. It didn't matter why he had offended the intern, or how many times Bones hadn't remembered this guys' name. All that mattered was that this guy, this _bastard_, had taken Bones. He had taken Bones, had _beat_ her, and had possibly killed her.

Booth checked his gun one more time and decided exactly how many seconds he would let the guy talk before he flat out killed him. Ten was enough, Booth decided. Just enough to get Bones' location, then the guy was dead.

Clenching his teeth, Booth quickly raised his leg and sharply kicked in the door, rushing into the dark room, gun raised directly in front of him. From the dim light shining in from the hallway, the agent couldn't see much, but he hadn't heard anything, so he took a risk and flipped on the switch beside the door.

The agent whirled around the room, gun drawn, checking for the intern, and froze. There, huddled in a bloody unconscious pile in the far corner of the room, was Bones.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Bones!" Booth said, terrified. Performing one final sweep of the room, he holstered his gun and ran to kneel beside her.

She didn't look good, he realized, wincing. Hesitantly, he held his breath and reached forward to brush the hair away from her closed eyes as he checked for a pulse. Very faintly he felt a pulse beating in her throat under his fingertips, causing him to let out a sigh of relief. She was alive. Bones was alive.

It was all Booth could do to not gather her in his arms as tears rushed to his eyes in relief. She obviously had some broken bones and he was afraid any further movement he made would cause her more harm, so he made do by just squeezing her hand and placing a hand on the side of her face gently. He took his time carefully untying the gag that was tightly wrapped around her mouth.

"Bones," he whispered tenderly once the gag was removed, willing her to wake up. No response. "Bones, wake up, baby, it's me. It's Booth. You're ok, baby, I got you. You're safe now. Please wake up. Just for a minute so I can know you're all right. Please." He begged, needing some kind of sign that Bones could hear him. Still no response. He whipped out his cell phone and quickly called for an ambulance, sliding the phone back in his pocket and staring at Bones' pained face.

At that moment, Booth heard a sound behind him and he whirled around, crouching protectively in front of Bones as he pulled out his gun.

Agent McKnowles stpod in the door with several agents, hands raised in surrender. "Whoa, Booth, it's just me." He looked past Booth to see Bones huddled on the ground. "Whoa, is that Dr. Brennan? Is she ok?"

Booth turned back to face her as he responded, "I don't know. She's got a pulse but it doesn't look good otherwise. She's not responding to anything." He knelt farther down and slowly slid his hands under Bones' back and knees, very gently lifting her to his chest and standing. "I called an ambulance – it should be here any minute. I'm heading up to meet it."

Booth held his partner tightly to his chest as he stood, freezing once he saw an object in the corner that Bones had been lying on top of, hiding. A phone. He quickly glanced at the empty desk in the other corner of the room and saw that the wireless phone had been removed from its landing. Juggling Bones carefully, he reached back down and picked up the phone, quickly scrolling through its call history.

It hadn't been the captor tormenting him, it had been Bones trying to reach him. Booth squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of guilt and pain hit him. He could have found her _days_ ago if he had just been able to focus on the case instead of focusing on missing Bones. Looking down at the battered woman in his arms, another wave of grief hit him, causing him to lean against the wall for support. This had been why he had drawn that line. He had been too focused on his feelings for Bones, too concerned for her wellbeing, that he had completely ignored a clue. He had dismissed the phone calls as insignificant. Booth at the top of his game would never have ignored them.

"We got several empty containers of sedatives over here," said one of the many agents who were sweeping the room. He held up an empty bottle and syringe. "Looks like he kept her pretty doped up."

Wordlessly, Booth dropped the phone into McKnowles' hand as he walked past on his way to the elevator. As he waited for the elevator to reach the basement, the agent pressed his forehead to Bones', squeezing his eyes shut tightly and letting the tears fall. "I am so, so sorry, Temperance," he said quietly, reverently. It was so selfish of him to put his desire over her safety. He had forgotten about the line during this whole mess. When she woke up, he would have to remind both of them that it was important they not get involved. If something else happened to her because of him, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

As the elevator dinged and he stepped in, he felt Bones shift in his arms slightly. He looked down quickly, "Bones?"

Still not opening her eyes, Bones moved her arm to grab the front of his shirt and hold on tightly, "Booth," she murmured.

Swallowing back a laugh of relief, Booth hit the button with his elbow and held Bones even tighter. "Yeah, Bones. It's me. You're ok." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Screw the line.

* * * * * *

"They got him, Booth," Angela said quietly, poking her head into Brennan's hospital room. The anthropologist had been in and out of consciousness for 2 days, sleeping off the heavy doses of sedative her captor had given her and recovering from the many injuries the doctors had stitched up. It appeared as though she had sustained the majority of her injuries over the weekend and the doctors reported she had likely set the bones herself, which would have been excruciatingly painful but ultimately helped speed up her recovery.

"Who was he?" Booth asked quietly, glancing up from his post at Bones' bedside, holding her hand in both of his. He hadn't left her side the entire time she'd been in the hospital.

"No one," Angela said, shrugging, as she pulled up a chair on Brennan's other side, picking up the Get Well Soon card Parker had personally delivered to Bones' bedside the day before. "I was able to draw a sketch based on Oliver's description and Vincent identified him as one of his classmates. You were right – he was listening to us. We think that as soon as he saw Zac pull you and Hodgins into my office and saw us all talking in there, he knew we had figured him out and ran. Agent McKnowles, who is a cutie by the way, I'm mad you've never introduced us, was able to track him down using traffic surveillance cameras. He was hiding out in a nearby apartment."

Booth nodded, returning his attention to Bones' peaceful face. "But I still don't understand… Why? Why Bones? Why me?"

"Jealousy," Sweets said, walking into the office at the tail end of the conversation. "According to his confession, he was angry with Dr. Brennan for never recognizing him as a viable candidate for her assistant position, even citing his grades as higher than several of the interns she's selected in the past. He was also very upset that Max, an accused murderer, was given the post of teacher at the Jeffersonian, a job he applied for. He knew you had something to do with that appointment, Agent Booth."

Gaping at Sweets in disbelief, Booth squeezed Bones' hand. "This was about a job? He was angry at me and Bones because he didn't get a _job_ he wanted? Are you serious, Sweets?"

Sweets nodded, "yes, I'm afraid so. But while he didn't admit to it, I believe there was also a sexual component to the jealousy, as well. According to many of his fellow interns, he had on several occasions made a pass at Dr. Brennan but she was completely oblivious to his advances. One intern recalled an instance in which you were visiting Dr. Brennan at the lab and having one of your many one-on-one private conversations when he interrupted. According to the witness, you yelled at him for interrupting and said something rather pejorative which he still holds against you to this day."

Booth and Angela were in shock. "Seriously? He had a crush on Brennan and wanted Max's job? And that's it? That's why he beat her to a pulp, barely fed her, and hopped her up on drugs for over a week?" Angela asked, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm going to kill him," she said, conviction running through her voice. She stood, pulling out her cell phone. "I wonder if Hodgins was serious when he said that thing about paying off hit men," she wondered to herself, dialing and exiting the room.

"According to his confession, he broke into Dr. Brennan's house the morning after her 'date' with Oliver, knowing she would still be drugged and unable to defend herself, and… Let's say took his anger out on her there," Sweets said. "I believe he was trying to make the most gruesome crime scene he could for you to find," he finished, looking at Booth.

Booth stood, letting go of Bones' hand for the first time in 2 days for fear of hurting her as he clenched and unclenched his hands in anger. "He won't need to worry about hit men," he said, calling after Angela. "I'll get to him first." He glanced at Sweets, "Where is he? What's his name?"

Sweets' eyes widened as he realized Booth was serious. "Uh, actually, he's already locked up. The trial isn't' even scheduled yet, but he's in custody. He confessed to abducting and brutally injuring a federal employee, so I'm pretty sure they've already stuck him in the worst cell they can for now," he said, trying to calm the agent's nerves.

"Not good enough," Booth vowed, an elaborate plan beginning to form in his mind of how to break a criminal out of jail, kill him, then dump the body back in jail.

"Booth?" A tired voice called from the bed.

The agent whirled around and rushed to Bones' side, seeing that she seemed to finally be awake. "Hey, hey, shhh, I'm here," he said soothingly, rubbing circles on her hands with his thumbs.

"Hey," she said, smiling softly, wincing slightly when the smile stretched some stitches on her cheek. "What happened?" She asked, reaching up to feel the stitches for herself. Her eyes widened as the movement in her arm caused her to wince some more. Booth saw her slowly sit up, trying to asses her many injuries.

"It appears as though several bones in my left leg have been broken, along with the 3rd and 4th rib on my right side," she said, her fingers dancing along her side.

Booth nodded solemnly, "Yeah. Your collarbone and a few bones in your wrist, too," he said, motioning to the brace on the hand he was holding. "Nothing major to your skull, just a minor concussion."

Bones nodded, stopping suddenly when she felt the throbbing pain it caused. Booth sat up quickly and rang the nurse, seeing the pain cloud Bones' eyes. "I'll get you some more medicine right now, ok?"

The anthropologist sank back into the comfort of the bed, tired from her quick self assesment. "I had to have been beaten badly," she observed quietly. "A car wreck or bad fall or any other set of self-sustained injuries would have resulted in a different set of injuries."

Her partner squeezed her hand softly and nodded, "Yeah. You're right. But it's ok, we got him. Bones… Bones, I'm so, so sorry," he said, lowering his head so that his forehead touched her hand.

"For what?" Bones asked, confused, as the nurse entered the room to perform a quick checkup and increase her pain killer dosage. Sweets left at the same time the nurse did, seeing this as the potential opportunity for his case study to finally face what they'd been ignoring for too long.

"I didn't answer your phone calls," Booth said. "I didn't think they were important. I'm so, so sorry," he repeated, tears filling his eyes. "This is my fault."

Bones stared at him as though he had grown a third eye, causing Booth to crack half a smile. "What are you talking about? And why are you smiling?" She asked.

"I missed you making me feel like an idiot," he said, shrugging.

"That doesn't make any sense," Bones argued in a no-nonsense voice. "And it's completely untrue that any of this is your fault. I don't remember much of the past… how long did he have me?"

"About a week," Booth answered solemnly, the grin slipping off his face.

"Well, I don't remember much of the past week, but I feel quite certain none of it was your fault," she reasoned.

Booth refused to nod because he knew it was his fault and he would never forgive himself. "Do you feel up to telling me what you remember?" He asked, encouragingly.

Bones bit her lip in concentration, "I recall working late Friday – you were going camping with Parker that weekend and had mentioned he may stop by the lab, so I wanted to make sure I was there so I could say hello to him. I had had a long night Thursday night, so I was relying on coffee to keep me awake the later I stayed. The coffee tasted… odd, I recall." She paused, pressing through the haze of her memory to force herself to think, "Now I believe it was drugged, which is why I felt so tired. I was preparing to fall asleep on the couch when an agent called and said you were injured, so I went to the garage, but I was so tired… I think I saw Parker. Someone was there to meet me… I don't really remember the next part," she trailed off, suddenly looking at Booth in panic. "Are you ok? Were you really injured or was that just a ruse? Where's Parker?"

Booth couldn't believe that she was worried about _him_. "He's fine, I'm fine. It was just to lure you out," he said, cringing that his name had even a minor part to do with her abduction.

"I don't remember much after that, but I woke up in an empty room on the floor, in a lot of pain. I was still very hazy from the drugs, but I was awake long enough to reset the bones in my leg – it's crucial not to wait to long before resetting bones or else they may heal incorrectly," she said seriously. "I never saw a face, but I know someone was monitoring me and someone had to continue administering drugs. I would wake up every once and while and see a sandwich or glass of water in front of me. During one particularly lengthy period in which I maintained consciousness I was able to make my way to the desk and examine it's contents for evidence. I wasn't able to obtain much in terms of identifying my captor, but I was able to grab the phone and call you. I called you every time I woke up, but either you couldn't hear me through the gag or I passed out before you picked up."

She looked at Booth with a look the agent had only seen once or twice before – Bones at her most vulnerable. "I knew you would find me Booth. Thank you."

Booth remained silent for a moment, gazing directly back at Bones with the same intensity. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he whispered, not caring any longer than she could see his tears. "I said I would never let you get hurt, but you did."

Bones reached up her hand to wipe a tear away as it fell from his eye, smiling in comfort. "You can't always protect me, Booth. But I know you'll always save me."

The two smiled at each other as Booth leaned closer and awkwardly wrapped his arms carefully around his partner. "Don't make me have to save you again, Temperance. It almost killed me, thinking you were gone."

Bones' body tensed for a moment, causing Booth to look up. "You thought I was dead? But I was only gone for a week and you clearly couldn't have found my body… Why would you believe I was dead and not just abducted? What did he tell you?"

Booth grimaced, bracing himself to have to relive the entire painful ordeal as he told Bones the story of the skeleton. "Yeah, about that… I have a story you may need to hear…"

_**A/N: Well, we're nearing the end – I've just got one part left to post, the Epilogue. Thank you SO MUCH for reading this. I am truly touched with the response I've received. I would love to write another B&B story – I thought about stretching this one on to epic lengths, but I felt it had reached its natural conclusion. That being said, I need your help: I want to write a new B&B story, but I don't have any ideas. If any of you have any suggestions of stories you'd like me to write, let me know your idea in the comments section! My only requirement is that I like to write stories that would fit in with the actual TV series – so, for example, this whole story could occur at some point in season 5 without changing anything in the canon. No one was pregnant, died, or was a murderer, etc. And I don't do smut. Let me know your ideas!! And again, thanks SO MUCH for your reviews! **___


	17. Epilogue

_**A/N: Ok, gang, here it is. Hope you enjoyed the story! **____** Thanks so much for reading and for your sweet reviews! Until next time…**_

Epilogue

"Hey, how bout some… Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?!" Booth yelled at Bones as he walked into the lab, carrying a bag of Chinese takeout.

It was Bones' first day back at the lab and she had gone straight back to work without slowing. Booth skipped every other step of the platform as he rushed to see his partner, one arm in a sling, with a pair of crutches propped against the platform behind her, peering carefully over the skeleton left on the platform table.

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Temperance," Booth asked in a voice Bones had never heard him use before.

She looked up as quickly as she could without aggravating her injuries. "Booth?" She asked concerned, seeing him leaning against the far side of the platform, takeout on the table beside him, forgotten, his face ashen.

"Please put that down," he said slowly, deliberately, motioning at the ulna Bones had been carefully inspecting.

His partner did as she was told, keeping her eyes on Booth as he studied her intently. "Why…" She started, but he cut her off.

"You cannot study that skeleton, ok? Let someone else handle that." He said in a low, dangerous voice.

Bones remained behind the table, one good hand still resting near the skeleton in question. "Why are you telling me what to do, Booth? This is the skeleton that my captor used to fake my death. I know we've determined he just stole it from limbo, but I still feel the need to give this woman a name. Who she was is just as important as who I am," she said, resuming her study. "Just because we encountered another life-threatening situation does not mean you can boss me around, Booth," she reprimanded, slipping the ring off the skeleton's finger and placing it on her own, inspecting it in the light. "I have missed this."

"What-" She gasped as Booth suddenly stalking towards her and wrapped her tightly in his arms. "Bren, I need you, as a personal favor, to please _not_ be involved in identifying this skeleton."

He leaned back a bit so he could look his partner directly in the eyes. "Please, for me."

Bones raised her eyebrows, "Like, a partner thing?"

Booth nodded, "Yeah, Bren. A partner thing. And…" He took a deep breath, glancing at Bones' hand and knowing she wasn't going to like this next part. "And I'd really appreciate it if you not wear that ring anymore."

Bones pulled out of his arms, "Ok, Booth! Really, I'm getting angry now! I don't understand _why_ you need me to do these things. That skeleton is not me and just because it was wearing my ring doesn't mean I can't wear it again."

"I'll buy you a different ring," Booth sighed in frustration. "And I need you to not study that skeleton and not wear that ring because I just… I just can't be reminded of that. Of thinking that you were…" He swallowed, forcing himself to say it, "I thought you were dead. So please, don't remind me of that, ok?"

Bones smiled softly, nodding, as she let Booth hold her again. "But I'm not dead."

"_Now_ you're not," he murmured into her hair. "For a little while there…" He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he remembered the night he spent in Bones' apartment when he truly believed all hope had been lost.

He held her for another second, deciding he may as well go all in. "I missed you _so much_, Bren," he whispered fiercely.

Bones froze again and backed away, looking into his eyes, "Booth, it's me. Bones." She waved her left hand in front of Booth's face, displaying her once again bare ring finger. "I'm not your wife, I'm your partner."

Booth dropped his arms and stepped back, confused. "Yeah. I know. Believe me, I know you're not my wife," he said.

"But you just called me Bren," she pointed out.

The agent shrugged it off, "Yeah, well, I spent the better part of a week thinking that you _were_ a pile of bones," he pointed at the skeleton Bones had just been studying. "So it'll take a little time before I start calling you Bones again."

Bones considered his comment for a moment, then seemed to accept the logic. She gathered her things and left the platform and headed for her office, motioning for Booth to follow. He grabbed the takeout bags and slid in behind her, shutting the door before sinking into the couch next to her with a grin. He would never take these simple moments with Bones for granted again.

The pair ate in silence for a few moments as Bones studied Booth. He continued to eat, undisturbed, knowing she would eventually ask him whatever it was she was thinking when she was ready.

"Sweets talked me through everything yesterday," she said suddenly as Booth reached out for a beer. He nodded, looking at her as he drank, waiting for the question. "He explained all the mind games they played with you with the photograph and the will and everything," she continued.

Booth nodded again, reaching out to squeeze her hand mid-sentence just to remind himself physically that they were past that now and his partner was fine.

"So you saw my will?" Bones asked. Booth murmured a quiet "mmm-hmm" in confirmation.

"Did you read it?" She continued.

"Nope." Booth said, avoiding eye contact and digging into his noodles, newly fixated.

"Why not?"

The agent sighed and put down the box. Clearly, she wasn't going to drop this. "Because that would have made it too real. I know you won't find it logical, but reading your will felt to me like I was giving up – admitting you were actually… you know, dead."

Bones reflected for a moment and nodded, "I can see why you would feel that way. But it would have been ok if you had read it. You're in it."

Booth nodded, going back to his beer, "I believe that was mentioned to me at some point, yes."

Completely oblivious to the hint that Booth wanted to drop the topic, Bones pressed on. "How much exactly was mentioned to you?

"I'm your sole recipient," Booth stated, very matter-of-factly. Two could play in this emotionless-logical mind game Bones seemed to be conducting. "Although," he said sighing and putting down the beer, "While I am _incredibly_ touched and flattered and moved in ways you'll never understand and all that, I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?" Bones asked, baffled.

"Why me?" Booth said, exasperated. He felt that was an obvious question.

Bones shrugged. "Oh. Well, you take care of me every single day, so it made sense that I help you and Parker out as much as I could once I was gone."

Booth bristled quickly, "I clearly didn't do a very good job of taking care of you this time… Wait, Parker? How are you helping Parker out?"

Bones raised her eyebrows, "Yes, was that part of the will not mentioned to you?" Booth shook his head.

"Oh, well right after your run in with the Grave Digger, I set up a trust fund for Parker's education," Bones said casually, focusing on her meal. "By the time he graduates high school he should be able to afford any school he can get into – of course, were I still alive, he wouldn't need the money because I would be able to write him a letter of recommendation that would get him a scholarship. At which point, you could choose to save the funds as a graduation present or for graduate school, should he choose to attend. As it stands, the money is legally his as of his 21st birthday, should you not choose to use it before then."

She dug deeper into her cardboard carton with her chopsticks, exclaiming in delight, "Oh! Another piece of chicken, I thought I had eaten them all." Bones turned to look at Booth, awaiting his reaction to her exciting culinary discovery, only to find him sitting on the couch, jaw open in complete astonishment, staring at her. "What?" She asked uncomfortably. That seemed to be a bit of an overreaction to the chicken.

"You would do that for me? For Parker?" Booth asked, his voice choking up.

Bones shrugged, "Well, of course. I don't have any children and I have more resources than I need to support my lifestyle. I know that you would be unlikely to allow me to give you money due to some misplaced alpha male ego beliefs you have, but I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind if I provided some sort of financial stability for your son. While I realize I don't have any sort of parental claim over him at all, I'll admit I've grown quite attached to him and feel that if I ever have children one day, I would want them to be a bit like Parker. He's quite intelligent, you know." She paused in reflection, "I suppose if I had actually become inseminated with your child like I had planned, that child would in fact be like Parker in that they would both share your DNA."

Booth's mouth continued to hang open as he struggled to find words to express the several hundred different emotions coursing through his veins.

Seeing Booth still speechless, Bones decided to switch subjects and brought up another topic Sweets had mentioned to her. "You know, the one thing out of this entire situation that I find intriguing is the fact that my captor chose to simply inscribe 'Bones' on my gravestone. It's very fitting for me, if you think about it. Just an identifying marker. Almost poetic, really, considering the many applications that name has for my life."

"It's sick," Booth said sharply, having been pulled back into realty by this new turn in conversation.

"No, Booth, it's actually quite perfect. For me, especially," Bones continued. "I am the poster child for believing that bones are just that, bones, and that once a person has passed away, their remains are utterly useless and no longer carry meaning. When we die, we are all just bones. Look around this office. If you truly believed that a person's skeleton carried any form of meaning when they died, you'd be uncomfortable around all the bones I have sitting around in here."

"I _am_ uncomfortable," Booth insisted, sitting up straight. "Bren, stop talking like this."

"In addition to the poetry of it," Bones continued, ignoring him, "It is sort of hauntingly beautiful, isn't it? Excluding the special meaning you have given to the word 'Bones' by using it as an affectionate moniker, it really is the only thing that makes sense to put on my gravestone."

Booth squeezed eyes shut, "Bren, I'm really not kidding this time, I need you, for my sanity, to stop. Talking. Like. This."

Ignoring him, she plowed on. "I mean, what was he _supposed_ to write on my gravestone? Beloved daughter? Beloved sister? Certainly not. And the other typical platitudes of beloved mother or wife don't apply, either. And 'highly successful anthropologist and _New York Times_ best selling author' doesn't really seem like something that would be appropriate on a grave-"

Booth cut her off with a sudden tight hug. "It would say loved. You were loved. You _are_ very, very fiercely loved, Temperance," he whispered.


End file.
